


An Odd Dream

by Arisprite, username_goes_here



Series: Yuuko Ichihara’s Hitsuzen: Four Star Restaurant and Bar [20]
Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dreaming, Established Relationship, M/M, Tangled web of overlapping realities, drama angst and fluff, questioning reality and sanity, restaurant AU, so xxxholic really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-10-22 01:59:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 57,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10687434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arisprite/pseuds/Arisprite, https://archiveofourown.org/users/username_goes_here/pseuds/username_goes_here
Summary: Kimihiro had everything he wanted: a quiet life with Shizuka, business at the restaurant, and minimal annoyance from the restaurant owner Yuuko. Then, he began to see another life in his dreams, one where another Watanuki lived running from spirits, and part-timing at a wishing shop. With the effects of the dreams creeping into his daily life, and Shizuka’s worry, Kimihiro begins to find it hard to keep up appearances. And perhaps there is more to these dreams than just witnessing another Watanuki’s days? Perhaps he can do something to help him?You do not need to have read the previous works in the series!





	1. Don't Talk to Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> Phew! This story is a long time in coming. Two years ago, Rémy and I came up with the beginnings of an idea, on the tails of our restaurant AU, that what if Restaurant Watanuki and Canon Watanuki met? It ballooned (as our ideas often do) into this novel-length exploration of what Watanuki might look like from the outside, to someone who is intimately aware of his thought processes, but has had the chance to be happy. He definitely wants to help him, and so we plotted a way for him to do so. 
> 
> We tried to write this so that readers did not have to read the previous works in the Restaurant AU series to understand where this is coming from, though of course, it would help understanding just how Kimihiro and Shizuka got where they are. For those coming from the Restaurant AU series, this takes place in an alternate canon, a few years down the road. Kimihiro and Shizuka are in their late twenties and have been together for five or six years at least. They live in California (vaguely) and Kimihiro manages a restaurant that Yuuko owns. Shizuka is a professor at a nearby university. 
> 
> All chapter titles are Bastille song lyrics

An odd dream woke Kimihiro, far too early in the morning. It left him confused and cold, blinking at the ceiling. 

He lay in bed for a few moments before Shizuka stirred beside him, and Kimihiro turned to face him more directly. His face was blurry without glasses, and he looked stupid all curled up like that and Kimihiro huffed at the sight as Shizuka looked over at him muzzily. Slowly, he woke up enough to notice Kimihiro’s expression, and a line appeared between his brows.

“I had a weird dream,” Kimihiro mumbled unprompted, looking back up at the ceiling. It wasn’t like he woke up every morning and told Shizuka every detail of his strange dreams, but this one was persistent and so real and wasn’t fading like others did, so he felt the need to share.

“You did?” Shizuka asked - slurred, more like. He was usually a bit more alert in the mornings - far more than Kimihiro, who typically worked late into the night at the restaurant. It was before sunrise though, so Kimihiro couldn’t entirely blame him for being so sleepy.

“Yeah. I was running away from some, some sort of…” His mind supplied the word _ayakashi_ , but that wasn’t even English, and he and Shizuka rarely spoke Japanese. “I guess a spirit or ghost. There was a little kid there, running next to me. We passed people who paid no attention to us, and then the child ran through a gate to a house. I followed him, and the spirit was gone, and I looked at the child... and it was me.”

Shizuka let out an amused breath into his pillow. “Cute,” he teased, but Kimihiro frowned. The dream felt too serious, too real to just blow it off with a quip. Shizuka wasn’t taking this seriously enough.

“Yes, I was an adorable child,” he said, sniffing. Never let it be disputed that Kimihiro Watanuki wasn’t a very cute kid. “But, I- he… he was crying.”

Shizuka reached out then, brushing his hand on Kimihiro’s cheek, then leaned in and kissed where he’d just brushed. An unspoken apology. “Go on.”

Kimihiro closed his eyes and focused back on the dream.

“He was crying, so I tried to reach out and comfort him, but the scene changed. He was older, and he was in this small… it looked like an apartment, I guess. He had spell papers on the walls, and he… lived there alone, I think. He was so young though… He laid on his bed to sleep, I guess, and cried again, and then I woke up.”

After a moment, Kimihiro opened his eyes and turned back to Shizuka, who finally spoke.

“That’s sad,” he said distantly, though he took Kimihiro’s hand as he said it. “Spell papers to keep out the ghosts?”

“I don’t know what they said. The kanji was really distorted. It was… Well, it felt like there was a barrier, if that makes sense.” 

Shizuka hummed as he rubbed his thumb along Kimihiro’s wrist. “Just a dream though.”

“It felt… different,” Kimihiro said, though he couldn’t quite articulate why.

Shizuka settled again, scooting closer to Kimihiro and closed his eyes. Probably still sleepy, dumb lug.

“Hmm… dunno…” he mumbled.

“You’re no help at all,” Kimihiro said with a roll of his eyes, then gave him a quick kiss, slipping his hand away and getting out of bed. He was too awake to fall asleep again.

“Mm,” Shizuka said, rolling his face into his pillow. “Should make pancakes…”

“Just for that, I’m making omelets instead,” Kimihiro told him and yawned as he grabbed his glasses and headed to the kitchen to make pancakes.

Shizuka dragged himself out of bed within the hour, which was still an hour before his alarm was supposed to go off. This was probably a stupid idea on his part, seeing as he had at least three classes to teach today, and a number of essays to grade, and waking up so early would just leave the idiot tired and dozy, but he was stubborn.

Not that Kimihiro should have been awake so early. He’d worked at the restaurant until nearly midnight due to a few large crowds and Yuuko being incredibly insistent on after-work crème brûlée. She hadn’t made a ridiculous request like that in at least two weeks, so Kimihiro figured he would concede just this once. Then again if he’d known he was going to wake up at four in the morning feeling like he had a hangover, he might not have stayed.

Breakfast was nice though, despite the early hour and very little conversation. They lazed around a little before Shizuka left to meet with some other faculty at the University where he taught before his classes started. He kissed Kimihiro goodbye and ruffling his hair before he left. Kimihiro just shooed him off, promising a decent dinner waiting for him in the fridge when he got home, then spent the morning cleaning and making chicken cacciatore and trying to get that dream off his mind.

It really hadn’t been all that much. Kimihiro was prone to strange dreams rather often, but this one just sat with him in a way that made him uneasy. He found himself preoccupied with it, with that little Kimihiro of his dreams. That child that lived alone in a spelled apartment, running from ayakashi.

A dream, of course, but certainly an odd one nonetheless.

He was lost in thoughts all morning, and lost track of things, only realizing the time about ten minutes after he needed to leave for work.

After rushing to get dressed, Kimihiro bolted out the door, barely remembering to lock it behind him.

“Sorry plants, I’ll water you tomorrow,” he called back as he got to his bike.

*~*~*

“Watanuki, you’re running a little behind today,” Yuuko said as Kimihiro bolted through the back door.

Kimihiro turned quickly at the sound of his name. “How long have you been standing at the door waiting for me?”

Yuuko smirked, then sighed dramatically. “I suppose I’ll just have to write you up then. Disciplinary action. Pink slips. Severance packages.”

“I stopped believing that years ago. You wouldn’t get rid of your head chef,” Kimihiro snapped back. “And besides, when was the last time I was late for work?”

“Fair enough. Make me eggplant curry for dinner, and I’ll let you off the hook.”

“Do we even have eggplant?” Kimihiro asked with a frown. 

“Of course! My requests are never so impossible!”

“Yes, they are,” Kimihiro told her, then walked off to the staff room to put away his bag before getting to work, only a few minutes later than he’d meant to.

The day was long and busy, but enough of a distraction that by closing, the only thing on Kimihiro’s mind was getting home and going to sleep.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, on time, yes?” Yuuko said from her spot on the table in the break room, where she sat eating the leftover pork and rice that he’d put in the fridge there for his lunch tomorrow.

“Yeah, sure,” Kimihiro said, waving as he left. He wasn’t in the mood for an argument about whose food was whose, or how late he was.

He got a ride home from Himawari, who was working the late shift. How she managed working part time here, while working at a clinic and finishing up grad school for Psychology, Kimihiro had no idea, but he was impressed nonetheless.

“You sure you have time to swing by my place?” he asked as he stuffed his bike into the back seat of her car. “It’s not like I live down the hall from you anymore and it’s late. You should sleep.”

Himawari giggled as she got into the driver’s seat and reached over to unlock the passenger door.

“You really shouldn’t talk. You look exhausted,” she said as Kimihiro climbed into the car.

“Oh, I’m fine!” he said, waving it off.

“Okay. Just tell me if you need anything, alright?”

“Definitely. And you do the same, Himawari.”

She nodded and started her car to make the short drive to Kimihiro’s house.

The microwave clock said after eleven when he got home, and based on the book on Shizuka’s chest, he had tried to wait up for him in bed. He usually made it fine, but considering the four am wake up call, Kimihiro wasn’t too surprised.

Kimihiro put the book aside, and tugged the big lug under the covers more fully, then got ready for bed.

*~*~*

Kimihiro stood in the middle of a street.

It was the middle of the day, and people were going about their usual business. The street signs and business signs were all in Japanese. He ran to the sidewalk quickly and tried to ask someone where he was, but no seemed to see hear him, whether he spoke (or yelled) in English or Japanese.

He huffed, and gave up, and tried to go off the street names to figure out where the hell he was, but it had been years since he’d visited Japan and it was hard to tell. He had the impression in the back of his mind that this was Tokyo though, but that was still a big area. He’d have to find the airport and money and he knew he didn’t have his passport, so how was he going to get back home…?

His thought process was interrupted, however, when he looked across the street and saw himself.

A younger him, probably fifteen or sixteen to his more than a decade older, but still undoubtedly him.

“Ah, a dream,” Kimihiro mused to himself. It had felt so real that for a moment there…

“Okay, I just need to find some reasonably-priced eel, and then I’ll be done for the day,” Kimihiro heard the boy say, though how he heard him from so far away was a mystery. Just a dream thing, he supposed. Just like this was a dream Kimihiro - the same as the night before.

And apparently the exact same one, Kimihiro realized as his other self frowned and groaned, looking at the ground next to him.

Or rather, looking at some sort of spirit. It was just a little blob, really, with a few too many eyes and a large mouth, currently trying to bite the other Kimihiro’s leg. No one else on the streets seemed to mind, and the dream-Kimihiro dispatched of it quickly, grabbing a thing of salt from his bag and shaking some of it onto the offending spirit.

“Smart,” Kimihiro said to himself, out loud. His bedroom greeted him. 

The bed was too warm, so Kimihiro kicked the covers off and turned to see that Shizuka was still asleep and it was dark out. He huffed, and fell back asleep, only to wake up in Tokyo again, following after his dream-self.

It was night though, in Tokyo, and the dream-Kimihiro was running, so Kimihiro ran too, to keep up and stay out of reach from a rather large spirit that was behind him. Now that he thought about it, Kimihiro hadn’t even turned around to see the spirit, but there was a pressure in the air, and an odd stench that couldn’t be anything other than a spirit.

Then again, Kimihiro had never encountered a spirit, so he didn’t really have a precedent for that feeling. He knew what it was though, and didn’t question. It _was_ a dream after all, right?

He woke again with a start, just after Shizuka’s alarm went off. The covers had all been kicked down to the bottom of the bed, and Shizuka was in the middle of shutting off his phone. God, that ringtone was so annoying. He didn’t wake up to it often, but when he did, it just set him on edge.

But that dream was on his mind today, so the alarm didn’t make too much of a difference. Another strange, and far too realistic dream of another him, running from spirits. Two nights in a row. Weird.

“You alright?” Shizuka asked when Kimihiro opened his eyes and rubbed his face.

“Yeah,” Kimihiro told him, considering there wasn’t any reason to _not_ be alright, right?

“You get too hot last night?” He gestured to the comforter, which was mushed at the end of the bed, along with the sheets.

Kimihiro nodded, then shrugged. “Had another weird dream is all. Running away from spirits with myself again.”

Shizuka leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “Go back to sleep,” he said, but Kimihiro shook his head.

“I’m awake. I’ll make breakfast,” he said, dragging himself out of the bed. “Tamagoyaki okay?” They already had rice made, and Kimihiro liked to go back to their shared heritage occasionally. And perhaps Japan was on his mind lately. But still, it was a pretty straightforward breakfast, and all the simpler now that he’d acquired the pan for it.

“Yeah,” Shizuka said, yawning and getting out of bed himself.

“Okay.”

He made it to work early that day, but he was even less engaged. Shizuka picked him up, and Kimihiro just about fell asleep in the car, leaned up against the window.


	2. Walking By Your Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kimihiro's dreams continue, and Shizuka starts to get worried.

Shizuka’s alarm was, as always, a far too early, annoying tinny noise, but it was one that wouldn’t usually wake Kimihiro, so he kept it. Kimihiro was turned away from him, curled on his side and breathing slowly, so Shizuka leaned over and kissed his shoulder, before getting up and ready for work. 

He dressed, and made himself a cup of tea, before going to his small office across the hall from the bedroom, where his years old desktop computer sat among the piles of his school papers. 

The entirety of the History department was anticipating an email from a tenured professor, which of course, meant that Shizuka, as the junior professor in the department, would write, edit and send it, and so he got to work on that. Then he answered a couple of emails from a few of his own students and made sure his class materials were ready before he heard Kimihiro shuffle out of the bedroom. He entered the office, and dropped a kiss on the back of Shizuka’s neck before he draped himself over Shizuka’s shoulders. 

“...Morning,” he mumbled, his glasses cold, but the rest of him warm against his back. It made him wish they could both go back to bed. 

“Hey,” Shizuka said, gripping one of his hands, and rubbing a thumb over the knobby wrist bone. “How’d you sleep?” 

Kimihiro shrugged, yawning into his back. “I had another dream…” 

“Mh?” This made three nights in a row. “Running again?” 

Kimihiro nodded, pulling himself away to slump into the extra chair at the side of the desk - the one that was usually covered with papers until Kimihiro moved them to sit each time. 

“Are you ever going to organize these?” he asked, peevishly, putting the stack on the desk. It was a common complaint. “You’re going to lose someone’s homework in this mess, and then what will you do?” 

Shizuka shifted the papers over, leaning on his elbows. Kimihiro looked tired, curled in the arms of the chair, bedhead wild and face still sleep-flushed. 

“You should go back to bed.” Though he was really cute like that. Kimihiro frowned, puffing out his cheeks. 

“Don’t you want breakfast?” he pouted. Shizuka usually woke earlier to do work and get ready, before leaving for the University to teach at nine, letting Kimihiro sleep in until a little before he left to make breakfast and eat it with him. 

Shizuka’s stomach _did_ want breakfast, but they had cereal for a reason, so he shrugged. 

“I can find something. You look tired.” 

Kimihiro got up, knocking his elbow accidentally-on-purpose against Shizuka’s head. “I’m making _something_.” Rubbing his head, Shizuka followed Kimihiro downstairs to the kitchen (nicer than most of the house, and the reason they’d bought this place), where Kimihiro was getting out milk and cereal bowls. 

“And don’t think you’re getting that sugary stuff I _know_ you bought and hid.” Watanuki poured the heart healthy granola into a bowl, and set it in front of Shizuka’s place at the table. Shizuka sat, and Watanuki poured him milk and got another bowl for himself. 

“I’m only twenty-seven, you know,” Shizuka said, lifting a spoonful of the (actually decent) granola that promised to strengthen his heart and stave off heart attacks. 

“It’s never too early to worry about your health,” Kimihiro said, nose in the air.

*~*~*

 

After three nights of running in his sleep, Kimihiro was looking forward to the good night’s rest. But, of course, instead, he found himself back in Tokyo, running from a particularly large spirit alongside his teenaged self.

The spirit chasing them was much larger than the few Kimihiro had seen in the previous nights. It hung in the air like a cloud, and the mere presence of it was making Kimihiro nauseous, but getting away from it was more important than vomiting, so he ran, barely keeping pace with the spastic, equally-frustrated high schooler running with him.

But the spirit was too fast. It landed right on top of the dream-Kimihiro, narrowly missing Kimihiro himself.

“Hey! Hey, wait, that’s-” Kimihiro tried to protest, to pull the spirit away, but his hands went right through it.

“Stop stop stop!” the boy yelled and slammed his hand on the fence beside him.

As he did so, the spirit dissipated, leaving the air feeling clear again, relieving the headache Kimihiro hadn’t known he had.

Both of them looked around in confusion, and the dream-Kimihiro stood to inspect the fence, then the gate neither of them had noticed. Through the gate was a path to what looked like a house of some sort. _Shop_ , his mind supplied 

Suddenly, the dream-Kimihiro started walking towards the shop, though he seemed to be protesting the movement, yelling and flailing in a way Kimihiro could only hope he’d never done himself.

Kimihiro, too, found himself drawn to the shop, and he figured there was no harm in following. Just a dream. No reason not to explore a bit, right?

Dream-Kimihiro (Kimihiro should really figure out what to call him, this was getting confusing) waltzed (or was maybe dragged by something unseen) right into the shop, still complaining that he didn’t want to go in.

Inside were two little girls with pink and blue hair.

Other-Kimihiro - no, _dream_ -Kimihiro tried to just leave, but they dragged him in to “meet the mistress.”

Kimihiro took a moment to look around the shop, which was immaculately decorated. Just barely on the tasteful side of gaudy, in Kimihiro’s opinion, but it certainly set a mood. The décor was some sort of mix between traditional Japanese and a more western - maybe English? - style. The air hung heavy with smoke and some weird sense of foreboding. Or maybe Kimihiro was just tired. Maybe both. 

“It is because you were fated to come here,” came a voice from behind a screen, and it sounded oddly familiar…

The two girls slid the screen open to reveal Yuuko, of all people, laying on a couch, wearing a loosely done kimono of some sort, and smoking a pipe. A kiseru, in fact.

Yuuko. Yuuko Ichihara, restaurateur and (un)professional businesswoman, was laying on a chaise longue wearing a kimono and smoking a pipe in his dream. It was…

Well, it was odd, up until she started quoting the Japanese learning dictionary and insulting him. Well, insulting that _other_ him. That, that seemed about right.

Her name was an alias, which made Kimihiro wonder if it was the same for his Yuuko until he reminded himself that this was a dream. An incredibly realistic and detailed dream… But a dream.

The teenage Watanuki was red faced with a very familiar frustration - looked like the dream knew what Yuuko was really like - and was about to storm out when she spoke something that stopped him in his tracks. It gripped Kimihiro as well like she was actually speaking to both of them, though she had given no indication that she could see him. 

“I told you once. There is no such thing as coincidence in this world. The only thing is… hitsuzen!” she said, with lazy pleasure. 

Kimihiro could see that the younger him was skeptical, but Kimihiro wondered. Could it be that he was meant to see this? To be here in a strange fantasy dream world? 

Kimihiro watched as Yuuko lectured Watanuki, and teased him, just as his Yuuko did. She was coy as she took the boy’s watch. 

“Proper compensation must be made for offered goods or services. One must not offer too much for the payment. One must not charge too much for the product. Reasonable… equitable...and fair. If it isn’t… someone gets hurt.” 

Kimihiro felt chills go down his spine, and from the looks of it, Watanuki did too. 

“What the hell is this place?!” Watanuki yelled, startling Kimihiro, but not Yuuko. She only looked on with a weird smile on her red lips. 

“A store. A shop where wishes are granted. And in exchange…a proper payment. That way balance is ensured.” Yuuko had a way of drawing people in, even in his world where she didn’t apparently have some sort of power, and Watanuki was drawn in like a fly to a spider on a web. Yuuko stroked the young boy’s cheeks and held his jaw as she detailed the kinds of things people could pay. Things like _souls_ , Kimihiro realized with a shudder. 

“A soul could be an item of great value to a person. To have your wish granted, the only payment must be something of great value. That’s what this shop does.” 

“I don’t have any wishes!” Watanuki protested. Yuuko’s pipe hissed as it seeped curling smoke. 

“‘I wish I didn’t have to see them.’ That’s… what you’ve thought, haven’t you? To not see spirits.” 

Watanuki’s face looked distrustful. “You can…” 

“We can do that,” Yuuko said, smiling. 

And so, dream-Watanuki made his wish, indebting himself to this dream-Yuuko. Kimihiro couldn’t decide how he felt about it - Yuuko had always been so creepy! But, then again, hadn’t he done a similar thing in the real world. He’d been alone in a huge city, as a barely eighteen-year old, and Yuuko had offered him a job, against all reason. He did feel indebted to her, even now. 

One more thing stood out to Kimihiro as he felt the world get thinner. He figured he was waking up, but he heard Yuuko explaining further. 

“Everything that happens in a person’s lifetime has meaning. There is meaning to this meeting between you and me. And there is a reason why you came to our shop.” 

Kimihiro woke with a gasp, twisted in his comforter and sideways on the bed. He felt disoriented and exhausted and strangely affected by the dream. It had been so bizarre and so surreal, and yet it felt the same as his waking life. The same, but so, so different, because in his life, there was no magic, no spirits, no dimensional witches, no wishes or shops or anything like that because those things just didn’t exist. But at the end, it had felt like Yuuko was speaking to him too… 

Then again, he’d just woken up. He was overthinking this.

“You ‘kay?” came Shizuka’s voice from the bathroom door, words muffled around a toothbrush. His English was oddly jarring, and Kimihiro had to work to match it.

“Another weird dream,” he said slowly as he untangled himself and sat up, though his hands were shaking, oddly. It hadn’t been a particularly scary dream or anything, it was just… he didn’t know. There was just something about it that set him on edge.

Shizuka ducked back into the bathroom to spit out his toothpaste, then came back out to sit next to him on the bed.

“You’re shaking,” he said, taking his hand.

Kimihiro pulled his hand back and took a breath.

“Yeah, it’s…” Kimihiro didn’t know how to explain. If he told Shizuka the dream, it wouldn’t sound worth the reaction… So he didn’t tell him exactly what. “Just the same.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Shizuka asked. “You’ve been having a lot of weird dreams lately.”

“I’m fine,” Kimihiro assured him, though he wasn’t entirely sure. “It’s fine. I’m sure it’ll go away.”

Shizuka nodded and leaned in to kiss his head before getting ready for the day.

Kimihiro, however, took that as a cue to go back to sleep. They didn’t really need to eat breakfast together _every_ day.

*~*~*

Every night of the next week or so was spent dreaming about this strange world his mind seemed to make up. Or… something. It never felt entirely fake, or dream-like, or anything other than real, for all that it was so fantastical. Which was… disconcerting, and very much not something he could explain without sounding crazy.

So every night, he just watched a high school version of himself run errands for a magical wish-granting Yuuko in Tokyo. Which, honestly, the more he saw, the more he felt like it was something Yuuko _would_ do.

Sometimes the dreams were disturbing (an incident with a Monkey’s Paw came to mind, and inspired a very disturbing Wikipedia run), and sometimes they were boring (he did enough grocery shopping while he was awake, watching himself do it while he was asleep was completely unnecessary, spirits or no), but nothing had disturbed him quite so deeply as the day his other self - his _dream_ self made that deal with that dream-Yuuko. The Dimensional Witch with her ornate kimonos in her mysterious shop.

It was interesting though when his cousin, Syaoran, made an appearance, his girlfriend and a few vaguely familiar people in tow, to travel across dimensions. The idea of other worlds, other thems, made Kimihiro think that maybe this could be-

No. No, it wasn’t _real_. It just wasn’t. No matter how real it felt, no matter the fact that he would wake in the morning, sore from running, or that he woke in the morning feeling like he had barely slept at all, or… Just, it wasn’t real.

Shizuka showed up one night though. Apparently, they went to the same high school, based on the uniforms, and, unsurprisingly given the way he and Shizuka had met, the dream Kimihiro - Watanuki - hated him.

Somehow, they - along with Himawari, who also made an appearance - got roped into telling a hundred ghost stories in a temple with Yuuko. Which was quite scary, and honestly, why Watanuki agreed to it, Kimihiro had no idea. Probably just because of Himawari, because it certainly wasn’t because of Doumeki at that point. The venom that Watanuki had spewed at him made Kimihiro wince, and hope dearly that he’d never sounded that bad back years ago when his Shizuka came to eat and then work at the restaurant all those times.

At any rate, it all went to hell, as it seemed it did often for this Watanuki, when real ghosts and spirits showed up, thanks to their draw to Watanuki’s blood. It was actually terrifying, and Kimihiro could feel in himself that same… whatever it was about this other version of himself that made the spirits want him.

Which, again, made no sense because… these were dreams. Obviously.

Luckily, this dream Doumeki was some sort of Spirit-Begone, and an exorcist to boot, and managed to save Watanuki from the spirits that were surrounding him.

And saved him again on a school roof. And kept spirits away anytime they were together. And helped with errands for Yuuko.

Of course, Watanuki was unimpressed and angry each time his Shizuka - Doumeki, he called him, as Kimihiro hadn’t for years - offered assistance. Kimihiro both understood completely and was annoyed. If for no other reason than this guy was the person who could help with his spirit problem, Watanuki needed to suck it up and-

Oh god, who was he kidding? In high school - even now - both of them were stubborn and prideful and there was no way Watanuki would accept his Doumeki anytime soon. No one could force the two of them together, no matter the circumstances.

But this other Yuuko had a gleam in her eye that said she would try, and Kimihiro wished her luck. Shizuka was the best thing in Kimihiro’s life, and to picture another him without the same was heartbreaking. He hoped they-

They what? That these dream people ended up happy in their dream life? This wasn’t real. This was…

But the people in these dreams felt real, the world felt real. Every dream felt more and more real until he’d stopped questioning when he was in them. It was only when he woke that it occurred to him _to_ doubt.

Because… it wasn’t completely impossible, was it?

He didn’t know how to bring that up to Shizuka though. How to ask him if it was possible. He decided to bring the dreams up again, after a while of not mentioning them, hoping maybe Shizuka had something to offer.

*~*~*

Kimihiro didn’t really stop looking tired. Shizuka woke at his normal time the whole rest of the school week, and Kimihiro started getting up early, with or before him, to wander downstairs or hang out in the office chair he liked, while Shizuka did his work. During the day, he wasn’t seeming like he was getting as much done before his shifts, as the kitchen had been getting untidy, and dinners were simpler. Purple smudges were appearing under his eyes, and he was lethargic and dragging when they went downstairs for breakfast before it was time for him to leave.

Shizuka didn’t mention the breakfast choice this morning, cereal again like the last three mornings, but he did peer a little closer at Kimihiro. He was frowning like he was thinking about something, and Shizuka was beginning to be concerned. Kimihiro noticed, and ducked his head, before looking off to the side of his eyes, avoiding eye contact like he only did when he was uncomfortable. 

“Shizuka, do you remember those weird dreams I had a little while ago?” Kimihiro asked. Shizuka remembered. He’d mentioned them a few times, but that had dropped off. His sleeping had only gotten worse, though. 

“You still having them?” 

There was a little pause. “Yes.” 

Shizuka took another bite of his cereal (though he really was getting tired of it) feeling suddenly like he should tread carefully. 

“Every night?” It would explain some things. Kimihiro nodded. 

Kimihiro had mentioned these dreams a few times. Mostly, he’d mentioned running. 

“You’re being chased by… ghosts?” Shizuka asked, not remembering the word he’d used before. He supposed that would explain the tiredness. 

"Spirits, not necessarily ghosts," Kimihiro said. "He's older now. In high school. In Japan. He has a job in a wishing shop." He paused. "I mean, in the dream."

Shizuka frowned, as Kimihiro jolted through some kind of explanation. Wishing shop? What did that mean? 

“You in the dream?” Shizuka clarified.

“Yes, me in the dream.” 

Shizuka put his spoon down, confused at how Kimihiro wasn’t speaking, was making him pull information from him bit by bit. That wasn’t usual for him at all. 

“That doesn’t sound like enough to keep you up at night,” he said. 

"Well, weird stuff happens. There are spirits everywhere. And wishes, and... I don't know. It's like when I watch them, it feels like I'm looking at... something else. It's tiring. I don't know how to explain." Kimihiro spoke oddly about it like he was slightly desperate, slightly afraid. Shizuka took in his exhausted appearance, how he drooped over his barely touched cereal and felt a jolt of concern. 

“Oi, you okay?” he asked. Kimihiro looked at him like he didn’t know what he meant, and Shizuka put a hand out over Kimihiro’s. “Maybe you should go in to see the doctor, see if he can help you sleep?” 

Kimihiro shook him off. “It’s not like that.” 

“You’re exhausted.” 

"That's not..." Kimihiro began protesting and then slumped inward, sighing. "Yeah, I'm probably just tired," he said with a half-smile. He took a bite of his cereal, grimacing slightly and then added, "You were there last night."

Of course, he was- oh the dream. Shizuka sighed inwardly, dropping it for now, and took another bite of cereal as well. It was starting to get soggy.

"In high school in Japan?" he asked. It just sounded so strange.

"Yes. Along with Himawari. Yuuko is there, and my cousin Syaoran showed up one time, and I swear there was a woman from the dream that came into the restaurant the other day..." he trailed off, looking at Shizuka like he was waiting for something, and not finding it. 

Shizuka was getting more and more concerned with each thing that Kimihiro brought up. Wishing shops? Doubles of people in a dream Japan? Running each night from spirits that were chasing you? It was too strange for their normal little life, and Shizuka didn’t like it. 

Kimihiro could tell, and faltered, dropping his head. "I'll, I'll sleep better tonight. I'll... do something. What do you want for dinner? I have a shorter shift today, so I'll be off at seven."

Shizuka frowned slightly, unsure what he’d done wrong. He breathed out and picked something easy and quick so that Kimihiro could go to bed. 

“Scrambled egg sandwiches. I’ll be home before you, I can clean the kitchen.”

Kimihiro looked around, troubled still, surprised at the mess and that alone made Shizuka more alarmed. Kimihiro never let the place get even the slightest bit messy, which is why Shizuka’s office (off limits to his organization) frustrated him so much. 

"Ah. I can clean it before I leave,” he said. Shizuka stood to dump his bowl in the sink, before turning back to stroke his hair and drop a kiss on top of his head. 

“Don’t bother. Go back to bed for a while.” 

Kimihiro didn’t answer until he’d taken his only picked at bowl to the sink, and put the soggy bits down the garbage disposal. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, and kissed Shizuka goodbye before he headed back up to their room.


	3. You Impose Upon Your Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kimihiro is discouraged by Shizuka's reaction and continues to dream. Could this be real?

The conversation with Shizuka hadn’t gone well. Shizuka had been so quick to brush it off, and Kimihiro had nothing more to say for now. It was just the same dreams. He kept it to himself.

But it was always on his mind. This other place he... made up? Watched? Kimihiro wasn’t sure. The more he thought about it, the more confusing it felt. Maybe if he could just make sense of it all, it could go back to normal.

Was it stress? Was he trying to process something? Was this normal?

He spent a good deal of time researching dreams one morning. Vivid dreams, nightmares, recurring dreams, dreams of parallel worlds… it ended up turning into pseudoscience, and Kimihiro set it aside. This wasn’t pseudoscience. These were just dreams. Like Shizuka had said. After that, he cleared the browser history and didn’t look it up online anymore. He needed those mornings for sleep anyways. He was just so tired all the time. Between busy workdays and sleepless nights, those few hours of sometimes-dreamless sleep in the mornings was all he had to keep him going. That, and caffeine, but it only did so much.

He was zoning out at work. Nearly falling asleep, forgetting orders, screwing up recipes he’d known by heart since he was fifteen.

Himawari expressed her concern one day when Kimihiro burned his hand on the stove. He’d never, not once burned his hand on the stove. Or injured himself at all, really. The only workplace injuries he’d received were someone else’s fault. He’d never-

“Watanuki?” she asked from behind him as he ran his hand under cold water in the sink.

“Hm?” he said, not looking behind him, trying to stay nonchalant, though inside he was actually a little concerned.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, it’s just a burn,” he said.

“Let me see.”

Kimihiro stepped to the side, keeping his hand under the water but letting her look at it. As he turned to look behind him, he saw that a good majority of the kitchen was looking over at him, and talking amongst themselves. Kimihiro waved at them to get them to go back to work and turned back to Himawari, who’d taken his hand from the cold stream and was inspecting it.

“It doesn’t look too bad. Did you want to wrap it up though?”

“No, Shizuka would worry,” Kimihiro said, putting his hand back under the water.

Himawari frowned. “Are you okay? You’ve been a little out of it the past couple weeks…”

Kimihiro let out a breath. “I’m just tired. Haven’t been sleeping well. I’ll be more careful.”

“Okay,” she said. “And… um, your order for table six was wrong…” she added softly.

“Oh. I’ll fix that.”

Himawari patted him on the arm and gave him a smile before getting back to work.

“Watanuki.”

“Oh my god, Yuuko-san, what?” Kimihiro yelled as she suddenly appeared behind him, far too close.

“San?” she asked, an amused smile in place.

“I meant… Yuuko. What do you want?”

“I was going to ask if you needed to go home. For your hand,” she said seriously, pointing at Kimihiro’s hand.

“No,” he said and dried off his hand to get back to work.

The day continued to be difficult, and it was about 7:30 when he snapped at a waiter. The waiter yelled at him that an order was wrong, and Kimihiro just wasn’t having it.

“You know what? If you want to make the damn food, then _do_ it! You keep giving me way more orders than everyone else, and I can’t be expected to keep track of it all! Tell the customer to _wait_!” he spat, then turned back to his station to chop some onions for the new dish.

“Watanuki,” said a voice behind him.

“What?” Kimihiro yelled back, expecting another wrong order, but it was just Yuuko. “Oh. I, I’m fixing the order. I’ll be quick.” With that, he got his chopping, going just a bit more slowly than usual. After burning his hand, he wasn’t interested in cutting his finger.

“Watanuki,” Yuuko said again, and Kimihiro let out a breath as he dropped his knife and stepped back from the station. “Let Fujimoto take over for a moment,” she added, and Kimihiro nodded at her as she crooked her finger, gesturing for him to come over.

Kimihiro wiped his hands on his apron and let Fujimoto take over, avoiding eye contact with anyone he passed as he followed Yuuko to her office.

Yuuko flounced into the office and shut the door behind Kimihiro before taking a seat in her loungey office chair. Kimihiro sat in the stupidly uncomfortable chair across from the desk and pouted at her. She leaned forward and put her elbows on the desk.

“Watanuki, dear. I have never seen you like this,” she said, then clicked her tongue.

Kimihiro wasn’t sure whether or not to take Yuuko seriously. On the one hand, she was leaned over her desk and showing far too much cleavage, but on the other, beneath the obviously well-practiced face, she seemed almost concerned.

Either way though, he didn’t have much to say to her. He wasn’t at the top of his game, that was obvious. And despite his wish to make it stop, _this_ Yuuko didn’t grant wishes. No Yuuko did. This was the only Yuuko, and she ran a restaurant.

Kimihiro shook his head and blinked a few times, focusing in on Yuuko again.

“I’m tired. I apologize. I’ll get back to work.” He bowed slightly and made a move to leave her office.

“Ah ah, sit back down,” she said, pointing at the chair, and Kimihiro sat. “Now. Tell me,” she continued as she leaned back and folded her arms, looking flippant. “Tell me, is everything alright? Here at work? At home? You and Doumeki didn’t have a falling out, did you?”

His boss wasn’t exactly the person he wanted to go to for these sorts of things, and Kimihiro was wont to wave it off. Then again, she’d been his boss for nearly ten years now, and he considered her kind of like a friend of sorts, he supposed.

“I’ve just been having weird dreams is all,” he admitted. “Hard to sleep. I’m fine though. Work is fine. Home is fine. Shizuka is fine.”

Yuuko frowned. “Have you gone to see anyone? This has been going on for a while, hasn’t it?”

Kimihiro looked away, focusing on the file folders behind her that were always a mess, and shrugged.

“A couple weeks. It’s fine though. I don’t need to see anyone. They’re just weird, and lucid, and I need to just figure out how to control them better or something. I’ll be fine and back to normal soon, okay?”

“Take a few days off, then,” Yuuko said, waving her hand. “Get some rest, at least.”

“No!” Kimihiro protested, almost standing with the words. “Ah, no, I, I have work to do.”

Yuuko’s face hardened, steeling away from the almost-soft looked from a moment ago. “Which you’re doing badly,” she said flatly.

Kimihiro deflated at that. She wasn’t entirely wrong, but it hurt to hear so outright.

“Maybe…” He swallowed, trying to come up with a solution. “Maybe I can cut back on hours a little bit. I work far more than full-time, and you know it.”

Yuuko let out a breath and looked him over.

“Fine,” she said, and Kimihiro nearly sighed in relief. “Go home early today, and I’ll set up a new schedule. And, please get some sleep, Watanuki.”

“I can stay,” Kimihiro said half-heartedly.

Yuuko just shook her head. “You’re off at eight. And _sleep_ tonight, Watanuki.” Her face turned sly. “Well, you can do other things first, if it helps you sleep since I’ve given you the time.”

Kimihiro felt his cheeks redden at that and knew they were done with the serious conversation.

“That is entirely not your business! Can’t believe I put up with you,” he groaned, finally standing and leaving her office with a flourish.

He decided not to tell Shizuka that he’d cut back on hours, and Shizuka didn’t comment on it. The times he came home weren’t terribly different - though far fewer days of coming back around midnight.

As for the dreaming… nothing seemed to help. He tried over the counter sleep aids, hidden from Shizuka in his bottom bedside drawer, techniques from the internet about lucid dreaming, and nothing changed.

The whole ordeal was tiring. There was so much happening as he slept, that it felt like he wasn’t getting any rest. Even the fewer hours at work didn’t make a difference. All the coffee and terrible energy drinks in the world only made him jittery and unfocused. Sure, he was awake, but still continued messing up orders (though he enlisted another chef to check everything before it went out) and zoning out while chopping vegetables (all delegated to the prep chefs now) and whatever else he was doing that he wasn’t noticing. He tried. He really did try.

But nearly every night was filled with this bizarre stories and strange happenings and it only ever got weirder.

Shizuka continued making appearances, along with Himawari. But most everything revolved around Yuuko. Around the shop, around the wishes, around some sort of mystery with himself.

Not with himself. With the other Kimihiro.

No, the _dream_ Kimihiro.

The Kimihiro who ran errands and granted wishes and was chased by spirits. The Kimihiro who hated his Doumeki. Hated the only person who could help him. Clung to his Yuuko far too much, though Kimihiro understood why.

At times he felt it, too. Felt what the other Kimihiro felt. It was bleeding into his life. He’d wake up scared or annoyed or angry or upset or elated and it wouldn’t be his emotions and they’d go away quickly, but Shizuka noticed. He noticed everything, but Kimihiro didn’t say anything.

*~*~*

From Shizuka’s perspective, it was only getting worse and worse. Kimihiro was decent at hiding it, most of the time, but he could tell that he was exhausted all of the time, even when he began going back to sleep after Shizuka would leave in the mornings, or not waking at all. He noticed that their coffee pot was always running when previously he’d had maybe a cup a day if that, and energy drink cans littered their trash when he took it out. 

He came home to find Kimihiro’s phone on the counter at home, one afternoon. Apparently, he’d been in a hurry to leave the house that afternoon, so Shizuka decided to drop by the restaurant to bring it, and get a late lunch. He hadn’t been in to see his old work friends in a while. 

Himawari was smiling from the hostess stand, probably here for the late Friday shift, since she hadn’t quit when she started grad school, like he did, and instead worked weekends here, had school, and clinic hours for her psychology degree. She handled a crazy schedule far better than he had. She brightened even more on seeing him and waved happily. 

“Hi, Shizuka! How are you?” 

Shizuka nodded and came up to the stand. “Fine, you?” 

Himawari smiled and shrugged. “Same old, same old. Kevin has a standing message to say hi to you the next time I saw you,” she giggled then. “I think he has almost as big a crush on you and Kimihiro, as he does me.” 

“Your boyfriend is weird.” They’d met last year, and Kevin had been very impressed with Kimihiro’s cooking, and Shizuka’s job, and apparently them in general. If he wasn’t so nice, and perfect for Himawari, it would be a little creepy. 

Himawari nodded in agreement, before gesturing to the back. 

“Are you here to see Kimihiro, or can I get you a table?” 

Doumeki lifted Kimihiro’s phone. “Both. He left his phone at home.”

“Alright, I’ll let him know and then get you a table-” she paused with her finger to her earpiece, frowning briefly. “Actually, can I ask you something?” 

It was a slow afternoon, and no one was in hearing distance, so Shizuka nodded. Himawari bit her lip. 

“Is he… okay? He hasn’t spoken with me much lately, but he’s been looking really tired.”

Shizuka frowned, his worry coming back now that someone had mentioned it outright. 

“He’s having a lot of dreams… he said slowly, unsure if he should be talking about this with someone else. Then again, it was Himawari, Kimihiro’s number one confidant. He’d actually been considering asking her if she knew something he didn’t. “I don’t know if they’re nightmares, exactly, but he’s not sleeping well.”

Himawari’s face fell in worry. 

“He’s been really out of it here. Mixing up orders, and he burned himself the other day. Yuuko wanted to give him some time off, but he refused.” 

“He would,” Shizuka grumbled, tamping down concern for those close calls. 

Himawari glanced back at the kitchens as if Kimihiro could hear them from out here.

“I think he cut down on hours, though, and he’s _never_ done that before. Do you think… does he need to go to the doctor? Just to check him over?” 

Shizuka lifted an eyebrow and then sighed. Probably. Definitely. If Kimihiro was worried enough to cut back on his hours at the restaurant, there might be honestly something to be concerned about. But Kimihiro wouldn’t go unless convinced or dragged. 

“If I could get him there… I’ll keep an eye on him. Unless it gets worse.”

Himawari nodded. “I’m worried. He seems so miserable. I hope he gets some rest soon.”

*~*~*

Pretending became more and more difficult with each passing day. Shizuka was watching, though not saying anything, and Kimihiro wasn’t about to talk about it. There wasn’t really any way to talk about it. To tell Shizuka that this could be real. That this other him - this other them - could actually exist. It sounded crazy, and Shizuka would only worry.

Not that Shizuka didn’t already have plenty of reason to worry and only more reason when the dreams started getting more violent.

Like the night that the other Kimihiro lost his eye.

He woke before Shizuka, in the middle of the night, tangled in the sheets again and half off the bed already, making it easier to run to the bathroom to splash water on his face and wake himself up.

The cold water did him some good - cooled him off, reminded him that he was in the real world. Or at least his world.

Kimihiro stood there for a long moment, splashing water on his face before he had to look… had to be sure.

He flipped the light switch on and stared in the mirror, squinting his eyes to see better. They were both the same blue - as they were supposed to be - and when he covered his left eye, his right could still see fine. Well, fine enough. Glasses and all that.

Kimihiro breathed out a sigh, and turned to go back to bed, but ran into Shizuka in the doorway.

“Oi, you okay?” he asked.

Kimihiro stepped back quickly, and stood there for a moment, mouth hanging open to say something, but words weren’t coming. He blinked up at his Shizuka and thought back to their other selves.They way they sacrificed for each other, but still hated each other - kept things from each other. Maybe he should say something… Half the burden, just like those others said.

“I was checking my eyes,” he admitted, just barely catching himself in time to use English. “To make sure they were… right.”

“What do you mean?” Doumeki asked, sounding confused and slightly upset.

“My eyes. I- and my hand.” Kimihiro held up his hand to show Shizuka that it was fine. “Mine are fine. His aren’t. I just, I had a moment where… But- but I know the difference between us.” Which he did, generally. Despite feeling those emotions with him and experiencing some of the same things, Kimihiro _did_ know the difference.

Shizuka stared at him for a moment before speaking forcefully. “It’s a dream, Kimihiro. You’re not making any sense.”

Kimihiro blinked hard and pushed his palms against his eyes, letting out a groan of frustration.

“It makes sense,” he said, and put his hands back down to his sides, clenching his fists with some sort of emotion he couldn’t define. “It’s not- he isn’t-” He took a breath before correcting himself. “Let’s just go back to bed. I’m tired.”

Shizuka nodded, then stepped closer to put a hand on Kimihiro’s cheek, then looked at him for a long moment.

“You’d tell me if something was really wrong?” Shizuka said. Asked. Demanded.

Kimihiro was trying, but Shizuka wasn’t listening. Or maybe neither of them were saying what the other wanted to hear.

What Kimihiro wanted to say though… what he really wanted to say…

“What if it’s-” The words stuck in his throat, and Kimihiro stared down at the floor.

“What if it’s… what?” Shizuka asked quietly, and almost hesitantly.

Kimihiro swallowed and tried to get the word out. He could feel his heartbeat and his breathing felt weird from fatigue and his head was fuzzy and his eyes were feeling heavy.

“What if it’s… real?” he said finally, barely above a whisper.

Shizuka’s hand twitched and slid down to his shoulders, and Kimihiro found himself being pulled back to bed.

“It’s just a dream, Kimihiro,” Shizuka said.

“I’ll end up there again,” Kimihiro told him but didn’t protest to being put back to bed. Maybe he would get lucky this time.

Then again… there wasn’t really any luck. Just fate and inevitability, right? This was probably just what was supposed to happen and he just had to-

God, no, that was, that was Yuuko - that was the _other_ Yuuko - talking. This wasn’t there. This world was different.

Shizuka pulled him to the bed and gathered him close. “Just try to sleep,” he whispered, wrapping his arm around Kimihiro’s middle.

Kimihiro nodded as he settled into Shizuka, and fell asleep far too quickly and slept past when he’d set his earlier alarm.


	4. You'll Come Undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a confrontation, Kimihiro works hard at pretending he's alright, which only worries Shizuka more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Neru for the comment, and all the rest of your for the kudos! Love you guys!

After the middle of the night disturbance, Shizuka went back to sleep after Kimihiro and woke to his (later weekend) alarm like normal. Semi-normal, in that he woke with his fingers twisted in the back of Kimihiro’s shirt, like he was holding him here...like he was afraid he was floating away. His arm was probably asleep, but Shizuka kept his fingers tight around the fabric, arms tight around Kimihiro, as he breathed slowly in and out into his chest. 

Thank god he was sleeping, though dreams were probably disturbing him even now, even still and relaxed. He was always dreaming, lately. Dreaming the same thing, and murmuring half asleep that what he was seeing was real. 

Those words had made a clench of fear jolt in his stomach before he’d pulled Kimihiro back to bed. It made it hard for Shizuka to fall asleep… thinking ‘what ifs’. What if Kimihiro was serious, what if he meant it? Did he believe that his dreams were reality, because, that… 

Shizuka’s brain shied away from it. He tried to think of something else, like the chores he was going to do today, and that stack of papers he needed to grade before the weekend was up, and the smell of Kimihiro’s hair against his chin...

He’d planned to get up and do things, but Shizuka decided not to move for a while instead. Some dozing time later, he felt Kimihiro shift and wake up, moving off his arm. Unfortunately, that arm had been pinned under Watanuki for hours, and the movement made the blood rush back into it, tingling and buzzing as it came. 

Shizuka pulled his limp arm close, and held it in his lap, wiggling his fingers. 

“Made my arm fall asleep,” he murmured, shaking it out and frowning at Kimihiro. He wasn’t really mad - he liked sleeping wrapped up in each other like that. 

“Mine too, Kimihiro mumbled, protesting as he yawned and flopped his arm around. 

“Mmm,” Shizuka said, rolling onto his front, and curling closer to Kimihiro - without sticking his arm underneath him. He turned his head to the side, looking at the other man with affection, and some worry. He poked Kimihiro’s shoulder softly. “Feeling better?” he asked, as a way to bring it up, he supposed. 

Kimihiro was quiet for a long moment, before nodding. “Yeah. Just tired.” 

Shizuka was silent too, brushing his fingers back and forth against Kimihiro’s shirt. It took him a while to get the words out. 

“...You asked me last night… ‘what if it was real?’ ...The dreams you’ve been having.” He didn’t say that it scared him, or he dearly wanted him to deny it. Shizuka wasn’t used to prying into Kimihiro’s thoughts, but this glimpse - well, he needed to know. 

“Oh,” Kimihiro said, blinking and looking up at the ceiling. “Yeah, it felt real last night…” 

Shizuka pulled back, getting up on his elbow enough to look at his face. He was feeling a rush of uneasiness, but he wasn’t sure why. 

“You’re sure that’s all it was?” 

“They feel so real. It was the middle of the night. I’d just watched a spider eat my eye. It was weird,” he said, all short and tense. “It’s a dream. They’re all dreams. I know.” 

Eating eyes? Disturbed and slightly sickened, Shizuka didn’t take his eyes from Kimihiro’s face, frowning. Not that it mattered, because Kimihiro’s glasses were off, and he probably couldn’t see much at the moment. He wanted to tell him that he was scared and that they were going to go to a doctor or a therapist or a sleep specialist or something.. but. Well. He _had_ said he didn’t believe it was real anymore. 

Shizuka lay back down, heart beating a little too fast, but feeling the need to get closer.

“Okay. Okay, but if anything changes...talk to me.” 

“Mhm,” Kimihiro said, too quickly maybe. But his voice was slow, tired. “I think I’m gonna try to go back to sleep.”

Shizuka breathed out, and brushed his hair away from his face, before kissing where he’d brushed. 

“Kay. Want me to throw a breakfast together, for later?” It was Saturday, after all. They used to have delicious breakfasts together every Saturday, but that had kind of dropped off lately. 

“No,” Kimihiro mumbled into the pillow as he turned over. “I can make something later. Like… I dunno. Pancakes are good. ‘s easy.” 

Shizuka got out of bed gently, moving around the side to get ready for a quiet morning, but not before leaning down on Kimihiro’s side of the bed. 

“Sleep,” he said, kissing Kimihiro’s temple. “See you later.” 

He pulled on jeans, and left the room, making sure the shades were drawn tightly.

*~*~*

In the morning, Kimihiro played it off. Told Shizuka he’d just been tired, and that he knew they were dreams. Lied, because with each dream, it felt more and more real.

He stopped mentioning them and worked harder to pretend they weren’t happening. Pretended he was asleep in the mornings when he was awake before Shizuka, and tried to clean and cook like he used to.

Whether or not it was working, Kimihiro wasn’t sure. He felt exhausted and stretched thin and keeping up appearances was proving difficult. He tried to do more sleeping during the day before later work shifts - he was less likely to dream in the day, he found - but anytime Shizuka caught him, he just seemed worried again. Maybe he hadn’t really stopped though.

*~*~*

 

The days went on, and Shizuka focused on being very very quiet in the mornings, on the off chance that Kimihiro was actually sleeping, and not just pretending until he left, like he’d started to do. He no longer really got up to see him off before he went to work, and he was practically comatose with exhaustion when Himawari brought him home from work each night. 

Shizuka was getting worried. He’d feel sick with anxiety in the morning, watching Kimihiro dream an hour before his alarm went off. He’d started grabbing granola bars or pieces of toast for breakfast in the mornings since there was no point in sitting if there was no one to sit with, and even that he could barely choke down. 

It was a Monday, and after speaking with Himawari and observing for a few more days, he’d gone to bed with the decision to force Watanuki to the doctor’s on Friday, when he had a free morning from classes. Himawari was almost as worried as him, and she’d texted that he’d burned himself at work again, and to look after him. Shizuka hadn’t told her then, but he was starting to think that this could be something more serious than just some weird insomnia. An hour of internet research had yielded nothing but a clenched stomach, and fear that Kimihiro had some sort of disease, but he’d closed the tabs after reading, and not opened them again. 

Meanwhile, Kimihiro continued to deteriorate. He was trying so hard to hide it, and apparently, Shizuka had said the wrong thing the other night, because Kimihiro had stopped telling him anything, which of course, made watching the whole thing even worse.

Shizuka had left Kimihiro asleep in bed, moving softly into the bathroom to get ready as had become his habit. He hoped that Kimihiro was sleeping, and not dreaming, but that didn’t seem likely. He brushed his teeth, and went to the closet, to pull out a button up shirt. He did it up, while he stared into space, pondering this whole thing. He was getting almost as tired as Kimihiro seemed, just with worry. 

Then, there was a choked noise from behind him, a terrified cry, cut off and muffled in the bedclothes. He snapped around, to see Kimihiro twisting himself in the covers.

“Kimihiro?” he said, stepping closer, and then running the few steps between them. He wasn’t waking up, and his eyes were shut tight with fear, little bleating noises escaping his open mouth. Kimihiro clawed at the sheets, his elbow caught in the blanket and only agitating him more. Shizuka skidded to the side of the bed, getting up on a knee and putting his hands on Kimihiro’s shoulders. “Oi, wake up!” 

Shizuka tried to pin the movements, and shake Kimihiro awake because he was going to hurt himself. 

“Oi, Kimihiro!” Shizuka said, loudly, but it still didn’t register. He was writhing underneath him, nearly completely pinned and panicked because of it, tears leaking down his cheeks. “Wake up!” Shizuka shouted, and then, only then, did Kimihiro gasp and jerk. It scared Shizuka almost as much as the thrashing. His eyes popped open, mouth open and panting before he glanced moved around and looked on Shizuka. He looked afraid, ashen and disturbed. 

“What the hell was that?” Shizuka demanded, not letting off his hold on Kimihiro’s shoulders. He should probably be calmer, comforting, but he was too strung up himself. 

Kimihiro was quiet for a moment, as his breathing calmed down, before he jerked a little, to get out from under Shizuka. He was still panting, and sweating, with the damp of tears on his cheeks. 

“A dream,” he said, slowly, “That’s all.” 

“That’s all?” Shizuka sat back but didn’t quite let go of him. These dreams were getting scary, just to witness. 

“That wasn’t like your other dreams,” he said. Kimihiro closed his eyes, and let out a breath. 

“No,” he said. His voice was shaking. Shizuka put a hand on Kimihiro’s wrist, still tense, with fingers clenched in the blankets. He’d been so scared, of, of _something/_. 

“What’s going on?” Shizuka demanded, slightly calmer, but not a lot. 

Kimihiro took a breath, and sat up, beginning to drag himself out of the twisted blankets. 

“I don’t know,” he said. A lie, such a lie. 

“Kimihiro,” Shizuka nearly snapped, anger rising over the fear. “Tell me.” 

Kimihiro snapped back. “A window. I fell out a window.” 

“A window?” Shizuka frowned hard. “I thought you were running from spirits?”

“No, at school. There aren’t- god, just, it’s hard to explain.” Kimihiro was frustrated now, fisting his hands in his lap. He looked tired and frazzled. “It just keeps happening.” 

Shizuka moved further back, not wanting the rush of anger and fear that tightened his stomach (there went any breakfast ideas for the morning). He grit his teeth, and turned away before speaking. 

“This has to stop.” 

Kimihiro’s voice slowed, exhausted. “I know.” 

Shizuka had made up his mind. He hadn’t called the doctor yet - that felt like too much of a betrayal - but this only cemented his determination. 

“I want us to go to the doctor Friday morning. We’re both off work. We need to get a handle on this.” 

Kimihiro bristled. “I don’t think…” 

He was reluctant, Shizuka had known he would be, but it still made him clench his fists on his knees. 

“Kimihiro. At least go. What if something else is wrong?” He’d read the research on the various warning signs of more serious health problems. This could very well be some indication of… cancer or something, much as that terrified him. 

“I’m not crazy,” Kimihiro said, firmly, pulling away. 

Shizuka frowned. “I’m not saying that. What if it’s a tumor or something?” 

Kimihiro’s eyes widened like that hadn’t occurred to him. “It’s not. It’s, it’s not.” He swallowed, and looked up at the ceiling and then nodded. “Fine.” 

“You’ll go?” Shizuka confirmed. 

“I’ll go. If only to show you that I’m not…” He trailed off there. “Friday then.” 

“Friday,” Shizuka nodded, relieved. 

 

*~*~*

 

Kimihiro agreed to the doctor’s appointment reluctantly, only to assure Shizuka (and maybe himself) that he didn’t have some sort of brain tumor. The appointment was set for the coming Friday, and Kimihiro couldn’t help but feel that it was unnecessary. He wanted this to stop, yes, but he _knew_ this wasn’t some sort of medical condition. This was him seeing another world, and the doctor couldn’t help with it.

But there wasn’t any getting out of this. Shizuka was convinced that Kimihiro might have cancer or something, and if the doctor reassures them that there wasn’t anything wrong, then maybe they could both move on and Kimihiro could just deal with it.

With his less than 40 hours a week - as opposed to far more, that restaurant was his life - and his constant lethargy and…

And the dreams just got weirder, after they set the appointment. His other self was having a dreaming issue of his own, which only made _his_ dreaming problem more and more confusing. As the other Kimihiro questioned his reality and his existence, it took everything in Kimihiro not to do so himself. But the awake and asleep, dreaming and not-dreaming, existing and not-existing… it was weighing on him. He would fall asleep on his breaks, dreaming of the other Kimihiro’s life and his dreams, and lose track of what time it was or where he was and he could see the concern on everyone’s face, and he tried, but it just came to a head on a Tuesday afternoon after being dropped off at home by a worried Himawari.

She waved him off and waited at the curb until he got in, as she did more often lately. He stopped though, on the porch, when he idly noticed he needed to water his plants. When was the last time he’d…

Far too long, apparently. They were all drooping and one of his potted plants was brown and shriveling.

He quickly scooped it and his long-unused watering can up and waved at Himawari from behind, then went inside to inspect the damage.

“C’mon, please don’t die on me,” he said to it as he slipped his shoes off and tossed his bag on the floor. As if maybe his words might make it not true. As if pleading and apologizing could revive his plant.

Gently, he set the plant on the kitchen table, then filled up his watering can in the kitchen sink. He poured the water over the plant, watching as the cracked, dry dirt soaked it in more slowly than Kimihiro would have liked to see.

“I’m sorry. I meant to water you,” Kimihiro said, feeling one of the dry leaves. It fell off in his hand and crumbled, and somehow that leaf was the tipping point.

This was too much. His life was spiraling. Kimihiro was losing himself to these dreams.

He slumped down in a chair, and stared at his plant, trying to find some sign of life in it, but there was nothing. There was nothing to be done. He’d killed his plant, and that’s all there was to it. He wasn’t…

Keeping up appearances was nearing impossible, and he’d forgotten to water his plants. Kimihiro had never… he’d never let a plant die. He never injured himself at work. He never ruined food. He never fell asleep at work, he never…

But he had. He’d injured himself and let sauces burn and forgot recipes and fell asleep at work and his plant was _dead_. He’d _killed_ it.

Kimihiro laid his head on the table, wrapping his arms around him and still holding the remains of the leaf in his hand. His eyes burned, and he closed them tightly. He should water the other plants, prevent them from dying too, but he was so tired…

Apparently, he’d fallen asleep, as he found himself in that strange other-world, but only for a brief moment, as he jerked awake when the front door opened and closed more loudly than Kimihiro would appreciate. Or maybe he was just too tired for the noise.

He listened to Shizuka’s footsteps through the living room, hitting at the creaky spot as he always managed to, until they stopped at the kitchen.

“Hey,” Shizuka said, almost hesitantly.

Kimihiro sat up and fixed his glasses, looking at his plant again. The leaf was still crumpled in his hand, and he let the remnants of it fall to the table.

“It’s dead,” he said, not looking away. “I killed it.”

Shizuka came around the table and took a seat next to Kimihiro, then spoke. He sounded careful.

“You’ve had a lot on your mind,” he said.

“I killed it,” Kimihiro said again. “I didn’t water it like I was supposed to. Every other day for this one. It had purple flowers… the last time I was paying attention.”

Shizuka placed a hand softly on top of Kimihiro’s. “It’s-” He stopped for a moment before continuing. “Not your fault. I could have watered too.”

“But _I_ watered them,” Kimihiro said, turning to look at Shizuka now. “I was supposed to. I wanted the plants, so I took care of them because, well, I can’t expect you to take care of something as delicate as some of those flowers, but…” He looked back at the dead plant, whose soil had sucked up all the water, yet still looked dry, and gestured at it to finish the sentence. Delicate or no, any care was better than none all, which was what Kimihiro apparently had to offer. Maybe Shizuka should just take over.

Shizuka rubbed Kimihiro’s hand, then stood up and took the watering can to the sink to fill up.

“Can I just water them all, or is anything special?”

“Just make sure the soil stays moist, but don’t drown them,” Kimihiro said softly, conceding before he even thought to argue. “I’ll… be more attentive. I think I’ll… I’m going to work less. I should work less until it gets better. And then probably I’ll remember.”

Shizuka finished filling the watering can, then returned to take the plant, kissing Kimihiro on the lips and lingering for a moment.

“Just… don’t be too hard on yourself, okay?” he murmured.

“Yeah,” Kimihiro said, looking back at the bits of dirt and crumpled leaf that still remained on the table. “Okay. What d’you want for dinner?”

Shizuka ran a hand over Kimihiro’s hair and took a breath before replying.

“We can order in, if you’re tired,” he said.

Yes. Oh yes, he was tired. He was so tired.

“Okay,” Kimihiro said, taking Shizuka’s hand and standing. “I’ll grab the take-out menus and you can decide. They’re… in the drawer,” he remembered.

Shizuka gently pulled away from Kimihiro’s hand, which was unusual. Why was he-

“You get them, and I’ll go water,” Shizuka said. Ah, that’s right, he was going to water the plants. “Then we can decide.”

“Oh, yeah, please water them all,” he said, giving Shizuka a tight smile, then got to tracking down the menus.


	5. Your Dreams and Memories are Blurring Into One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the nature of the dreams changes, Kimihiro is shaken, but more and more convinced it is real. Shizuka does not take this well.

The night before the doctor’s appointment, Kimihiro got ready for bed in a haze, far earlier than Shizuka. His thoughts were circling around themselves, and his whole body felt distant. His mind was taken up with what would happen tomorrow. 

Kimihiro knew this was real. He _knew_ it. This wasn’t just some bizarre set of dreams he’d made up on his own, or him just going crazy. This had to be real. It _was_ real… but he needed help. Dealing with it alone… it wasn’t working. He was just getting more and more confused and tired and something needed to change. 

He’d go to the doctor like Shizuka wanted, but if he told him the truth, the doctor certainly wouldn’t believe him. Even if he did, he’d have to explore the angle of him being mentally ill, giving him drugs or treatments or therapy that he didn’t need, and might very well cut him off from the world he needed to visit. 

Shizuka could believe him. Maybe. If he was very honest and said the right things, then maybe… maybe, Shizuka would believe him. If anyone would, it had to be him. 

If he told Shizuka, and he didn’t believe him… well, it was the same thing as telling the doctor. 

He’d tell the doctor he was having nightmares. Then he’d just give him some sleep medication, and he could put off telling Shizuka for a little while, maybe. Once he could explain it… then together they could get the whole thing to stop somehow. 

His dream that night changed everything. 

Yuuko - the other Yuuko - she disappeared. She was gone, but before she left, she spoke to Kimihiro. 

In the weeks that Kimihiro had been seeing this other place, not one person saw him. No one talked to him, no one felt him there. He was just an observer, and outside eye on everything that happened to his alternate self. 

But, that night, Kimihiro found himself in the shop without his other self. This had never happened before. Yuuko was lounged across her couch, smoking her pipe, and staring directly at him. She was posed as she did for customers, so Kimihiro turned to look behind him, but saw no one. 

He turned back to Yuuko, thinking out loud, since there was no harm in it. 

“I bet it’s someone I can’t see. I’ll just go find myself, and-” 

“Watanuki,” Yuuko said suddenly, in a low, serious voice. 

Kimihiro glanced around again. “I must be nearby…”

Yuuko lowered her pipe and stared directly at him. “No, I am talking to you, Watanuki Kimihiro.” 

Kimihiro jumped a little and touched his chest. “Me?” 

Yuuko smiled softly, still so serious somehow. Watanuki frowned, feeling shaken. 

“Well, I’m not the one you’re looking for, so I’ll just get going,” he managed, hoping he’d wake up soon because this wasn’t how it was supposed to go, not at all. 

“No,” she said, resolute. “You’re the one I’m looking for. Watanuki Kimihiro. From another world, another place. Born of different parents than the Watanuki here, but just as loved. Watanuki, who lives in California, who cooks for a living… and shares a bed with Doumeki Shizuka…?” She arched a delicate eyebrow, so like his own Yuuko. 

Kimihiro blushed and stammered. “Well, I-” 

Yuuko cut him off. “You’re wondering if this is real, aren’t you?” she continued. Kimihiro considered it, before shaking his head. 

“No,” he said, definitively. “I know it’s real.” 

“You’re right,” Yuuko said slowly. “It’s very real.” 

And although all logic within him was saying that just because a dream woman said it’s real, doesn’t make it true… he felt it. He believed- he /knew/ that he believed her, even before she said it. 

“And me?” he asked, voicing the concern that had nagged at his mind far too much - that the Watanuki here was the real one, and somehow, he’d ended up the dream one. 

“You’re as real as he,” she said, and the words set him at ease. “If not, more real than that child. This is why I guided you here.” 

Kimihiro frowned, his chest feeling so much lighter at finally getting some information, even as confusion rose up. “I don’t understand.” 

Yuuko lifted her pipe again, looking at the end of it, rather than at him anymore. The weight of her eyes off him was buoyant. 

“There are many worlds, Watanuki, all populated by the same souls, over and over again,” she explained. “Each individual exists in every world, in it’s past, present or future.” 

Kimihiro nodded, unsure how that made it so he was looking at someone else's world, but at least it made a sort of sense. 

“Admittedly, you’re a slight anomaly, but that happens from time to time.” 

“Eh?” 

She didn’t elaborate, and Kimihiro got the feeling she never would. She continued, still looking off into the distance. “You’re seeing this world, this Watanuki and his life, for a reason. You’re connected to your other self.” 

“Yuuko-san-” 

Her eyes snapped back to him, and he felt the jolt rush through him, as that red gaze met his own. 

“It was inevitable that you would come here. And necessary. For the time that is to come,” she said, her voice somehow growing hazy. 

“The time to come?” Kimihiro repeated. 

Yuuko blinked, and the power was gone from her gaze. She looked tired and young. “You’ll know when the time arrives.” 

Kimihiro frowned deeper. “That isn’t very helpful, you know.” 

Yuuko laughed lightly, and she was her usual self (apparently in all worlds). She stood, and stretched like a cat. “I have faith in you,” she said. 

Kimihiro didn’t understand her levity, since while she spoke, the world seemed to slip away from them, and darkness encompassed their figures. The world was dark, and flower petals blew in a breeze he couldn’t feel. He was alone there. 

Far away, he heard his own voice, yelling. It was disturbing to hear himself cry out, with such panic and anguish… he turned and saw Yuuko again. She was suspended, tied up, and held in the air by an invisible force. It was taking her away. 

He heard their words and felt the pain, and before he knew it, he’d seen Watanuki’s choice. He saw his wish, and he felt, he knew what it meant before the other Watanuki had explained it to his Doumeki. Not aging, not changing, and granting wishes just as Yuuko did before him. 

It was disturbing to watch and see and feel and _understand_ this other Kimihiro’s choice. It was heartbreaking to see the emotion on the other Shizuka’s face as he watched the person he loved - for he did, it was obvious - all but float away on the wind. 

If only Kimihiro had been there a little bit longer, Kimihiro might have understood why he was there, what his role was in all this. Might have seen what it was he was supposed to do, might have reached the time that was to come… 

But instead, he was shaken awake again. 

Kimihiro took a moment to come to, trying to not let the pieces of the dream slip away, and not forget what had happened. This was _important_. Everything had just changed, and it all had to do with the reason he was there, but he woke up too soon. If only he could have seen more, known more, but apparently not tonight.

“Why did you do that?” Kimihiro asked, as he got a grip on his breathing. His face was wet. 

Shizuka was there, a fuzzy worried shape without his glasses. 

“You were crying,” he said, his voice too quiet. 

Kimihiro palmed his eyes, rolling onto his back, and wiping the tears away. 

“Don’t- don’t do that,” he said. “Please, I was almost-” he pulled in a shaky breath, and let it out slowly. He didn’t want to push away his Shizuka. It had happened in that other world, and once was enough to witness in any lifetime. So, he curled on his side facing Shizuka, though his chest was too tight and his head was too fuzzy. He couldn't find any words. 

Shizuka didn’t need him to speak, apparently, as he reached forward, and pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around him. 

“Sh,” Shizuka whispered, sounding so scared, and god this wasn’t what he wanted. Shizuka spoke again, begging. “You can tell me. Please, you can tell me all of it. I won’t get upset, I promise.” 

Kimihiro buried his face into Shizuka’s chest, trying to match breaths to calm himself down, but it wasn’t working today. Shizuka’s fear was palpable through his heart beat, his shallow breathing. Kimihiro squeezed tighter and tried to ignore the way his own body was still shaking. 

“It’s real, Shizuka,” he managed to get out, around choking pants. “All of it. I don’t know why I’m seeing it, yet… But it’s real…” 

He felt Shizuka stiffen, his breath stop, and Kimihiro nearly bit his lips, trying to keep the next words in. He didn’t want this, didn’t want Shizuka to be afraid. 

Shizuka squeezed him closer then, and Kimihiro wanted to hide in his arms forever. 

“Tell me,” Shizuka said, and god his voice was trembling. The words spilled out. 

“There are other places, Shizuka. Other worlds, and I’m seeing one in my dreams. I’m seeing one where I’m there, but it’s not me, it’s someone else. I don’t know why, but Yuuko-san said, said there was a _reason_ , that it’s necessary, that it has to be me-” 

“Yuuko-san?” Shizuka cut in, confusion in his voice. Kimihiro realized that Shizuka didn’t have that distinction between the Yuuko they knew here, and the one there. 

“The other Yuuko. The dimensional witch,” he said, like that meant something to Shizuka. “But she’s…” it hurt to say it, his heart clenching, denying what he’d seen. It pained him, despite not being connected to this Yuuko. Then again, he supposed if his other self was, then he was too, in some way. “She’s gone,” he whispered, and tears trickled out of his eye again. 

Shizuka was still again, trying to do as he’d promised, trying to tamp down the panic and fear that Kimihiro could still feel everywhere their bodies were pressed together. 

“I…” Shizuka said, with a rare hesitation. “I’m trying to understand, Kimihiro. But you’re scaring me.” 

Kimihiro sank his head forward, curling into Shizuka’s shoulder. “I’m still here with you,” he said. “This isn’t like them.” 

“Like _who_?” Shizuka’s arms were tight, chin digging into Kimihiro’s head. 

“The other me, and the other you. In that other place. They… I did something there. I made a choice, and now they won’t-, I’m not making it here. I’m with you, okay?” 

Kimihiro was vaguely aware that this made no sense to Shizuka, and that he didn’t need to promise Shizuka he’d never wish away his time, and start granting wishes, since Shizuka had no knowledge of that at all anyway, but he had to say it. So he was sure. 

“I want to be with you. I want... I won’t do it, okay, Shizuka. I won’t push you away, okay?” his breath was getting ragged, and Shizuka gathered him up yet closer, rubbing his arms up and down his back. 

“Okay, okay, I hear you, sh, sh,” Shizuka whispered, trying to reassure. It worked, apparently, because Kimihiro could feel his body going limp again. 

“Can I go back to sleep now?” he asked then, so so tired. Shizuka nodded, his throat moving against Kimihiro’s forehead, before he bent down and kissed the crown of his head. 

“Yeah, he rasped. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here, okay. I’m with you.” 

Kimihiro nodded, and breathed out as he fell into a blessed, dreamless sleep. 

*~*~*

A half hour later, Shizuka was still there, his arms around Kimihiro’s slumbering form, trying to keep still and keep his breathing calm so he wouldn’t wake him. Anxiety was coursing through his body, giving him a fine tremble, but it apparently wasn’t enough to jar the other man - he’d be devastated if he woke Kimihiro after all that. 

But he was so scared. It was true then. Kimihiro was losing his mind. 

He tried to tell himself that it was sleep deprivation, and exhaustion, that Kimihiro just needed more sleep, more nutrients, to get his life back to a normal schedule… but that conviction in his voice terrified him. Kimihiro was convinced that these dreams, these other versions of themselves and Yuuko and whoever else were _real_. He couldn’t be right, so he must be… 

Mistaken. Not crazy, not that. He was confused. 

With these thoughts circling, Shizuka passed an hour, breathing and watching Kimihiro sleep, deeper than he had in recent memory. He didn’t dare move, in case he was sleeping without dreams for even a minute. 

Then, the alarm blared and they both jerked roughly. Shizuka swore, rolling over and turning it off, and kicking himself for forgetting. The damage was done, though. Kimihiro had been woken, and was blinking blearily, before he frowned and rolled over, away from Shizuka. He shoved his face into his pillow, obviously disliking the whole idea of mornings. It was such a normal moment, as Kimihiro rarely woke without a grumble, that Shizuka felt his chest tighten. Couldn’t it just go back to this? 

Shizuka tiredly sat up, and rubbed his face. He hadn’t slept since Kimihiro woke the first time, and the stress was catching up to him. But the doctor’s appointment was at nine, and Shizuka knew they had better start moving, since Kimihiro had been so sluggish. 

“Kimihiro,” Shizuka said, through a yawn. “It’s morning…” 

Kimihiro stayed where he was, not moving. Shizuka sighed, and let him be for the moment. He rose, and plodded over to the closet for some decent clothes. It seemed abnormally hard to pick something out. Did he want the button up, or was a tee shirt okay for a doctor’s appointment? 

Kimihiro hadn’t moved on the bed, but Shizuka could tell he was awake. He was curled in a too tight ball, and Shizuka felt his anxiety increase at his lack of movement. He wanted Kimihiro to get up, to move, to keep his promise to go to the doctor’s this morning, because Shizuka couldn’t do this alone. Shizuka picked up Kimihiro’s jeans from the floor, and tossed them onto Kimihiro’s legs. 

“You have that appointment today, Kimihiro,” he said, deliberately turning around to walk into the bathroom, to give Kimihiro the space to get up. 

“I don’t need it,” Kimihiro mumbled, the first words this morning, since his ramble about dreams being real. Shizuka stopped in the doorway of the bathroom, and closed his eyes. 

“You agreed,” Shizuka said, not moving, not turning around. 

“I know,” Kimihiro said, sounding resigned. “But I don’t need it.” 

Shizuka bit his lip, took a breath, and turned around. Kimihiro hadn’t moved. What could he say? Should he bring up the fact that last night, Kimihiro was telling him that his dreams were real, and that everyone outside their families were there, doing magic and living with spirits? Should he threaten to call Kimihiro’s mother, because that would certainly give him pause. Shizuka was too tired for subtlety. He settled on stubborn obstinance. He was better at that anyway. 

“You’re going.” 

Kimihiro let out a sigh, like Shizuka was being the unreasonable one, and then sat up to face Shizuka. 

“I’m not. I don’t need to go. The doctor will give me sleeping pills or something, and falling asleep isn’t my problem, so I don’t need to go.” 

He was speaking flatly, like he’d been memorizing this script for hours, instead of having just woken, like Shizuka knew he had. Shizuka frowned, and metaphorically dug his heels in. 

“You were telling me it was real last night. You need to go.” _Please, please, Kimihiro. Be reasonable._

Kimihiro looked up at him, playing every card he could think of. “Can we at least reschedule?” 

“Why?” Shizuka said, letting out a hard sigh around the word. 

“I want to sleep some more.” Kimihiro was dropping and honestly looked tired, but Shizuka couldn’t take much more of this. He needed someone else to tell him nothing was actually wrong, he couldn’t trust Kimihiro’s word on this. And if something _was_ wrong… well, the sooner they knew the better. 

“You have the whole day off, you can sleep when I go to work later,” Shizuka said. 

“I wasn’t dreaming. Later, I might not get more sleep like that.” 

“Kimihiro,” Shizuka said, pressing a hand to his forehead, and feeling the frustration bubble up. “You have to go. There’s something wrong, you’re not functioning. You’re saying something is real, and it’s not.” 

Kimihiro was sitting up, looking at him with wide eyes. The bags under them were especially noticeable without his glasses on. 

“I function. I go to work, and I cook meals here, sometimes, and I cleaned just yesterday. I know it’s not real, I do. I wasn’t completely awake last night. Please, Shizuka… just let me sleep?” 

Shizuka sighed, and he knew that this time, Kimihiro had won. He was angry, he was scared, and he’d probably regret it, but he gave in. 

“Fine,” Shizuka snapped, with a sharp gesture. Then, he turned and shut himself inside the bathroom. He stripped himself of the clothes he’d just put on, and turned on the shower tap - cold. He needed to clear his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are fabulous :) Come talk to me on tumblr at arisprite.tumblr.com :)


	6. Your Mother Warned of Strangers and the Dangers They May Bring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kimihiro continues to lie, and Shizuka continues to worry

Kimihiro woke groggy, but what else was new? He shifted heavy limbs, feeling like he should be doing something, but unsure what, blinking into his pillow. He hadn’t dreamed, he realized, again. Two periods of sleep in a row. Perhaps that’s what had him all muzzy. 

Behind him, he heard movement, the bathroom door opening, with weird deja vu attached to the sound. He rolled over, and saw the blurry shape of Shizuka, toweling his hair. He’d obviously just gotten out of the shower, but Kimihiro remembered falling asleep to the sound of the water running, so did that mean he’d only slept the less than ten minutes it took for Shizuka to shower? 

“Wait… you’re still showering?” Kimihiro mumbled, and Shizuka frowned at him. He assumed: it was hard to tell with the sleep bleariness and true bleariness from not wearing his glasses. Shizuka hung his towel on the bathroom door knob, the way Kimihiro hated, and shook his head. 

“I went running. You always say I smell after running,” he said, and Kimihiro let out a breath. 

“That’s true,” Kimihiro replied, coming more awake. “What time is it then?” he asked, sitting up and stretching pulling out the end of his sentence. 

“After nine, probably close to nine-thirty. You slept for a couple hours.” 

“Oh.”

Kimihiro twisted to grab his glasses, glad to know he’d slept for a while. It was a worryingly long run for Shizuka, though. He only pushed himself that hard when he was upset, and on far too little fuel too. As he’d expected, Shizuka was still flushed, and breathing a bit fast, even after showering. 

Shizuka hovered as he got out of bed, which was annoying, since he obviously needed to go get a drink. With a rough voice, he asked, 

“How’d you sleep?” with far too much hesitation to be natural. Kimihiro narrowed his eyes at Shizuka. 

“I slept fine,” he said, a little sharply. After that Shizuka went away, hopefully to the kitchen to drink some damn water. Kimihiro pulled himself out of bed, determined to be productive today, if only to prove a point. He just hoped that Shizuka didn’t bring up the conversation last night, though that was probably in vain. 

In the hall towards the kitchen, Kimihiro heard the toaster pop, and Shizuka spreading butter across the bread. And even amidst all this craziness, and his upset at the other man, he was glad Shizuka was making an effort to eat. He forgot all too often, when he was worried and stressed. It was the total opposite of the glutton he was when he was happy, and it only made it all the more worrying. Kimihiro wondered if he’d eat something more if he cooked it? 

He came out into the kitchen, to see the bread left out for him, but toast wasn’t good enough. Kimihiro bent to get a frying pan out, and some eggs (hah, the expiration date hadn’t even passed) to make a decent breakfast. 

Shizuka had been slumped on his elbow at the bar counter, but perked up as Kimihiro began moving around their kitchen. 

“Eggs?” he asked, stating the obvious. Kimihiro decided to give him a pass. 

“Scrambled, unless you have objections,” Kimihiro said, hesitating before he set a mixing bowl on the counter. 

Shizuka shook his head quickly, like he thought Kimihiro would change his mind. 

“No, scrambled is fine,” he said, a bit too quiet. Kimihiro again, decided not to mention it, and just get out the rest of the things he needed. The pan was heavier than it should have been, and for some reason, he was having trouble remembering the exact ratio of milk to egg he usually used, but he figured it was close enough. 

Shizuka was quiet as Kimihiro cooked, and finished his toast methodically, taking the last bite just in time for him to push a plate of scrambled eggs over to him, slightly too dry, just the way that Shizuka liked it. He picked up his fork, and ate without thanks, though there was something in the set of his shoulders that just screamed gratitude for this little slice of normalcy. He knew he’d shatter it if he said anything, though. Kimihiro could feel it too. 

Kimihiro sat down with his own plate, and forced himself to finish them as well. It was only after they’d both cleared their plates, that Kimihiro thought he’d better take control of the conversation now, or Shizuka would bring up the gigantic elephant in the corner, and that just wouldn’t do. 

“When do you go in today?” he asked.

Shizuka set his fork down. “Office hours at noon, and then class from two to six.” 

“Twelve to six,” Kimihiro repeated. That meant, if he wanted and had the energy for it, he could have dinner made and ready to eat by the time Shizuka came home - they didn’t live that far from the university. Dinner, and a clean house, and maybe Kimihiro could just smooth it all over. 

Still, Shizuka couldn’t just leave well enough alone. “I’m going to call the doctor again, and reschedule for next Monday.” 

Kimihiro felt the little idyllic moment crack, and his emotions clench his chest. 

“I work on Monday. _You_ work on Monday,” Kimihiro reminded him. “And it’s a pointless appointment anyway.” 

Shizuka put his hands on either side of his plate, his body gone still, face expressionless. Kimihiro hated that. 

“Kimihiro-” 

Shizuka, I don’t need to go,” he repeated, something rising up behind his teeth. Fear, anger, betrayal, stress and more. 

The dam broke, but not his own. 

“Why?” Shizuka demanded, his voice suddenly much louder. “Why the hell would you think that you don’t need help, when you haven’t slept through the night in weeks, you’ve lost weight, you’ve dozed off at work, and even hurt yourself cooking. You’ve messed up recipes you’ve known for years. Himawari told me everything, Kimihiro. Explain to me how not going to the doctor makes sense?” 

Kimihiro was startled, bristling and upset, even as the majority of him knew that Shizuka was right. Under normal circumstances, he was very much struggling, if not, completely not functioning. Yuuko was giving him less and less hours to try to let him recover, and all his friends on the staff were worried about him. He was making his boyfriend so worried he couldn’t eat. He needed help. But, these were not normal circumstances. A doctor wouldn’t be able to help - he’d just hear the wrong things, and put him on drugs, or even commit him, and what good could he do there? No, this had to play out. Yuuko-san said it would. Soon, Kimihiro would understand what he needed to do. Then he could do it, and get back to his life. But, he couldn’t be interrupted now. 

“Give me the week,” Kimihiro asked, refusing to look at Shizuka’s pleading, angry eyes. He could feel them boring into his head anyway. 

“Why should I?” Shizuka returned, quick and hot, like he so rarely was. Kimihiro was taken aback, though he supposed he shouldn’t be. He’d pushed him here, anyway. 

“It’s just one week,” Kimihiro tried to explain further. “Please.” 

Shizuka sighed out, almost a growl and so unlike his usual noises. He put a hand on his forehead, kneading away what was probably a headache. 

“It’s just longer for you to not sleep, Kimihiro. What difference does it make?” he said. 

Kimihiro didn’t reply because yes, he was right, it was longer for him to not sleep. That was the whole point. He needed to not sleep, so he could figure this out. Shizuka was growing impatient, which was only another sign of his stress levels, as he was the most patient man he knew. 

“Answer me. Why wait? What if there’s something really wrong?” He was pleading now, angry and scared. It broke Kimihiro’s heart, but… so did the other Watanuki. 

“Nothing is wrong,” Kimihiro insisted yet again. “And even if there was, a week isn’t that long. It’s no different than other weeks. But there isn’t, I promise.” 

Shizuka was shaking his head. “Kimihiro, please. Let’s go on Monday,” he said.

Kimihiro stepped back from the counter, frustration making him move. He wasn’t truly angry at Shizuka, but they were at a stand still. Kimihiro _had_ to keep dreaming, _had_ to help his other self. Something in him drove him to do whatever he could, and the consequences in this world be damned… 

Then, with a rush of sick realization, he recognized the same thinking in Watanuki, as he made the decision to wait for Yuuko-san. Physically, he stepped back from the thought, from the desperation to help, from the counter and Shizuka’s hurt. No. He wouldn’t lose Shizuka to this. 

“I have Wednesday off,” Kimihiro said, a compromise that he hoped Shizuka would accept. He couldn’t be sure that would even be enough, but it was two more days, at least. Two more nights, to try to find the solution. Yuuko said there was something he had to do - surely he could figure that out in half a week. 

Shizuka was mulling it over. “If I agree to Wednesday, I reserve the right to take you in earlier if I think you need to go.” 

Kimihiro bristled at the implication that at that point, his decisions would be moot. But, it would also take a lot for Shizuka to force him in, against his will - a lot of fear on Shizuka’s part, a lot of dysfunction on Kimihiro’s. He thought he could manage to get through these next few days without falling that low. 

“Fine. I’ll go earlier if you think I need, but the appointment is Wednesday.” 

Shizuka stood. “Alright.” He sounded defeated, and flat. “I’ll go make the call.” 

Kimihiro watched him leave the kitchen, before clearing off both their plates, and beginning to rinse them in the sink, trying to ignore the clench of nerves in his stomach. 

*~*~*

 

Over the next couple of days, when Shizuka and Kimihiro were both at home, Shizuka kept a close eye on him. As per their agreement, he could take him to the doctor earlier if he thought it was necessary. However, as the days went on, and the nights passed uninterrupted, Shizuka noticed that Kimihiro seemed to be… doing better? And, it wasn’t just that he was attempting to hide things from him. Shizuka thought he was actually resting better. He definitely hadn’t woken with tears or fear on his face since that morning on Friday. The dark smudges under his eyes seemed to easing, and his energy levels were higher too - still not close to normal, but better. He cooked dinners in the evenings, and cleaned to his satisfaction. Shizuka didn’t relax, didn’t think that everything was magically better, but still the relief was welcome. 

The evening before the appointment, Kimihiro made curry and served it with rice, and side dishes too. It was like it used to be, and Shizuka ate until he was full, and then some. Kimihiro was still quiet, but that was the norm since this all started. Towards the end of the meal, he spoke, and Shizuka looked up with his chopsticks still in his mouth. 

“Shizuka, about tomorrow-” 

Shizuka felt a little thread of defensive fear clench his stomach, but he pushed it down before he could regret eating. They’d had a deal, Kimihiro wouldn’t go back on that, right? 

“Mm?” he asked, on edge. 

Kimihiro looked at him. “I haven’t dreamed since last Thursday night.” He spoke seriously, firmly. Shizuka watched him, thinking back to the nights and mornings sleeping beside him. He’d seen Kimihiro sleeping over the weekend, and when he woke up for work. Kimihiro hadn’t been having _bad_ dreams, obviously. Nothing that was waking him up in a panic, or crying, but he’d gotten very used to how Kimihiro was while he dreamed - how he twitched and breathed. And he’d still been doing that. He didn’t want to think that Kimihiro was being untruthful… but he thought Kimihiro was lying to his face. 

“No dreams at all?” Shizuka asked, shoving down the hurt, the novelty of it, because he knew, he knew that if he accused him, he’d lose any cooperation he had. 

Kimihiro seemed to realize he’d been doing a bad job at lying, and so shifted, corrected himself. 

“Well, the other night I dreamed about going to the grocery store, and they were out of eggplants, which was very important to me for some reason.” He waved his hand, giving him a _ridiculous, right?_ look. “Maybe some other things, but nothing like I was having.” 

There was a sincerity there, but he still wasn’t telling the whole truth. But he couldn’t deny that Kimihiro was doing better too. He breathed out, unsure what to say, before picking at another piece of naan. 

“I’d still like to get you checked out, even if you’re feeling better,” he said, mild, trying to keep this normal and easy instead of another fight. 

Kimihiro went a little stiff, but he seemed to be doing the same. “It’s stopped though,” he said, low and quiet. 

“It could come back,” Shizuka countered, and Kimihiro relented, perhaps knowing that if he fought anymore, it would only confirm he was lying. 

“Fine,” Kimihiro said. “We’ll go tomorrow.” 

Shizuka tried not to feel hurt, as he ate another bite of the food he was too full for.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tension snaps and snaps again, but Kimihiro is finally dragged to the doctor.

Kimihiro dreamed that night. He’d been dreaming all along. They were slower, understated, but in no way calming. His other self was Shopkeeper now, taking the place of Yuuko as he’d wished, but scrambling far short of her control, and power. He granted wishes, but sloppily, often injuring himself in the process. He seemed to be trying to take her place with heavy drinking, smoking, and lounging half clothed in silks and satins. It should have looked strange, but it only looked heart wrenching, and unhealthy. 

That unaging boy, stuck in the shop for as long as it took, was spiraling out of control, and the other Shizuka could only watch and run errands. It was sad, and terrible, but Watanuki’s apathy was bleeding out of the dreams, and he was able to sleep deeper through it all. And, consequently, hide the continued dreaming from Shizuka, at least to an extent. 

 

Kimihiro knew Shizuka suspected him. But, he wouldn’t accuse him unless Kimihiro gave him a reason to. So, he didn’t. 

Yet, he still hadn’t figured out why he was seeing this. The extra time hadn’t been enough, and neither was the change in the dreams. He was still fumbling around in the dark, watching another life and unable to do anything about it, searching for a reason that he _knew_ existed, but was apparently just out of reach. 

He woke on the morning of the appointment - late, but he had no work today, and the appointment was in the afternoon. Shizuka was already gone to work, and so Kimihiro allowed himself to grit his teeth, and pull his arms over his head, in frustration at the lack of answers, before he relaxed. Well, that was that. It was too late now, and he’d either tell the truth, or lie again, and still there was no guarantee he’d be able to dream enough to find out why he was seeing these things. 

The frustration flowed away, and he rolled over into the middle of their bed, sighing. Today, he just had to forget about it. He’d tell the doctor that they’d stopped, that he had been having nightmares, and no intervention was now needed. And, he’d be completely and utterly normal today. He would shower, and clean up, and go to the grocery store, and fold laundry, and all those normal things he used to spend his days off doing. It would reassure Shizuka, and distract him, while he waited for this afternoon. 

A busy, but renewing few hours later, Shizuka walked in the front door, a bit later than he’d expected him, to find Kimihiro on the couch with piles of clean clothes stacked around him. 

“Hey,” he said, no hint of surprise in his voice, which pleased Kimihiro. He hated that the first thing to go when he was feeling stressed was their home, but he was glad that Shizuka didn’t make a big deal of him feeling well enough to do it. Then again, it was Shizuka. He didn’t really make big deals, period. 

“Hi,” Kimihiro said, leaning up as Shizuka gave him a hello kiss. “Laundry day was overdue. Do you know how many pairs of socks we have? I don’t know which are yours and which are mine? The pile’s there, you can pick out yours if you remember which ones they are.” 

Shizuka looked him, and the couch over, before selecting a matched pair of socks, and unfolding it part way. 

“I think our feet are close to the same size,” he said, which in Shizuka-speak meant he didn’t care if they were mixed up. Kimihiro maybe would have cared at one point in his life, but honestly, there were more important things than Shizuka wearing his socks, or visa versa. 

“Communal sock drawer then,” Kimihiro decided, as Shizuka rolled the sock back up that he’d unrolled, and put it back in the pile. Kimihiro picked up another pair of socks, the last bits he had to fold, and spoke as Shizuka headed towards the kitchen. “I made sandwiches, but I thought you’d be home sooner. Yours is in the fridge.”

“Did you put avocado on it?” Shizuka asked, giving Kimihiro a flash of reassurance. A Shizuka with opinions about his meals was a calm Shizuka. 

“Yeah, it’s in there. I ate mine already, because you took too long, so if yours is soggy, it’s not my fault.” 

He heard Shizuka hum, and move around the kitchen, opening the fridge and clinking a plate down on the counter. Then, Shizuka spoke, through a mouthful of hoagie, meat and cheese. 

“We should probably leave in about ten minutes.” 

Kimihiro rolled his eyes. “Chew, swallow, talk,” he said, not for the first time. “And I’m ready to go when you are.” 

“Okay,” he heard, and Shizuka spoke through another big bite, just to be annoying. “Did you have a good morning?” 

“Oh my god, what did I just say?” 

*~*~*

 

In the doctor’s office, they had Kimihiro fill out all the usual paperwork, and answer all the usual questions, before the nurse left to get the doctor. Shizuka sat to the side in the little room, because Kimihiro hadn’t told him to leave, though by his sideways glances, he probably wanted him to. 

Kimihiro was uncomfortable, that was clear, but Shizuka still had that niggling fear that he wasn’t telling the truth about the dreams. While Kimihiro hadn’t cried out or woke gasping, his sleep wasn’t quite free of restlessness either. He knew by now what Kimihiro looked like when he was dreaming. If they had stopped that night, then that would be terribly convenient.

Shifting in his seat, Kimihiro opened his mouth once, before the door gave a rap, and it opened to show the doctor coming in with a distracted look on his face. He peered at the clipboard that Watanuki had filled out, to pick out the name. 

“Kimihiro Watanuki, haven’t seen you in awhile,” he said, flipping pages back, and flashing a white smile in his dark face. Dr. Fisher was kind, if forgetful of faces, and had been Kimihiro’s doctor for the rare times he’d come in, as long as Shizuka had known him. “And D…, something wasn’t it? You’re the boyfriend.” 

“Doumeki Shizuka,” Shizuka said, shaking his hand. 

Dr Fisher sat down on the little stool, and looked at Kimihiro. 

“So, what can I do for you today?” 

Kimihiro looked increasingly nervous, and Shizuka was feeling it too, but he spoke clear and quick. 

“Sleep issues. Everything is fine now, but this big lug is worried, so I said I’d come in,” he said, gesturing at Shizuka. Said, big lug, he guessed. It was all pretty normal sounding, coming from Kimihiro, but still Shizuka couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Kimihiro wasn’t alright, and somehow Shizuka needed to _do_ something. Protectiveness made his fingers twitch, but he couldn’t understand the urges. 

“What sort of sleep issues are we talking about here?” Dr. Fisher asked, clicking his pen to open it. 

Kimihiro took a breath. “Well, I was having a lot of very realistic, very… intense dreams. And because of that, I was tired all the time, so Shizuka was worried about it, but then they stopped, and it’s fine now.” There was a clipped tone on the word ‘fine’. 

Dr. Fisher raised an eyebrow, humming as he scribbled down something. 

“How long was that going on?” he asked, and Kimihiro looked to Shizuka to verify, even though he didn’t have a completely clear idea on when it started, just when it started to get bad. 

“Ahh… I don’t know. Maybe a few weeks.” 

“And when did they stop?” Dr. Fisher asked. Kimihiro was firm when he answered. 

“Thursday night was the last one.” 

“Okay. And can you describe the dreams for me a little?” 

Kimihiro paused, looking uncomfortable. “Uh… like, me in another world. Some weird fantasy version of Japan. I dunno. ”

And Dr. Fisher went on, quizzing Kimihiro about his dreams, asking about the quantity, if he was aware he was dreaming, and how often they woke him up. Kimihiro asked truthfully as far as Shizuka could tell.

“So, how has all this been affecting your everyday life. You mentioned Shizuka had been worried.” 

Kimihiro paused, looking even more nervous now. 

“Well… I don’t know. Not more than bad sleep would, I mean, I was just really tired all the time. So, being tired makes life hard, but it’s all over now. They’ve stopped, so, I’m fine.” 

Shizuka was frowning hard now, and the doctor noticed. 

“Shizuka, would you say that as well?” 

Shizuka blinked, knowing he was being asked to corroborate Kimihiro’s story of it being no big deal. Well, he really couldn’t do that, not with that knot of fear still behind his sternum. 

“He really wasn’t functioning,” Shizuka said, dropping his eyes from Kimihiro’s betrayed gaze. 

“Can you elaborate?” Dr. Fisher asked both of them, looking between them. 

“I was just _tired_ , that’s all,” Kimihiro said, cringing. Shizuka really wished he’d be honest, so that he didn’t have to say it like this. Still, the doctor had asked, and likely needed to know the whole truth as far as Shizuka knew it, in order to best take care of Kimihiro. 

“He was messing up at work, not taking care of himself, not eating-” 

“Oh, like you’re one to talk about not eating,” Kimihiro hissed at him. Shizuka bowed his head further, and avoided looking at either Kimihiro or the doctor, but he still lifted his voice a little louder than Kimihiro’s jab. The terrified words spilled out. 

“I had to wake him up a few times. He’d get really upset, like he wanted to go back. Right when he woke up, he’d say the dreams were real…”

“Shizuka!” Kimihiro snapped. “That- that doesn’t mean anything. I was really tired. Disoriented! It wasn’t like I was thinking about this during the day, or when I was lucid. I was just _tired_.

“Okay, okay,” Dr. Fisher said, lifting the hand with his pen in it, and patting the air like he was conducting. It was probably meant to stop their fighting. “Kimihiro, I’d like to ask you a few more questions. We can do it in private, if you like?” 

Kimihiro froze, and Shizuka felt sick knowing that Kimihiro would kick him out of here now, and he wouldn’t know how much he was going to hide from the doctor. Shizuka didn’t wait for Kimihiro to say it, he gathered his feet under him, and stood, making his way to the door. 

“I’ll wait in the lobby,” he said, and didn’t give Kimihiro a chance to agree or disagree. 

Out in the hall, Shizuka couldn’t help but pace a little of his nervous energy and remaining anger/fear off. If he was a little more sure of how long Kimihiro might take, he might have taken a jog around the building, just to release, but as it was, he just tapped his foot in the waiting room, and tried not to disturb the other patients. Kimihiro came out after a few more minutes, a paper clutched in his hand, looking small and even more tired. 

“Hey,” Shizuka said, walking up to him, as he approached the counter to check out. 

Kimihiro’s voice was low and bitter. “So you don’t twist yourself into knots, he asked me if I was stressed, if we were fighting. He also doesn’t think I have cancer. Then he gave me a sleeping pill prescription. I told you this would be useless.” 

They walked out of the clinic, and to the car before Shizuka could formulate a response. 

“At least we know nothing’s wrong.” 

“I _told_ you nothing was wrong, and you didn’t believe me.” 

Shizuka put the car into reverse with a jerk. “How was I supposed to believe you? You were telling me that your dreams were _real_ , in some alternate, magical Japan.”

Kimihiro snapped his seat belt on a moment after the car began moving, voice tight and distracted. 

“It’s not exactly a novel concept, you know. Other worlds. I could have seen it in a movie, for all I know. Besides, I was half-asleep when I thought that…” The anger was leaving Kimihiro’s voice, and he was sounding exhausted again. 

Shizuka frowned, sighing and putting the car into drive more sedately. 

“You keep saying that,” he muttered, not even sure what he meant. 

“I researched it, you know,” Kimihiro said then, head leaning back on the seat. “Other worlds. It’s possible, likely even. I couldn’t understand half the words in some of those articles, but they were from real scientists.” 

Shizuka turned back towards their neighborhood, frowning still. “That’s not making me feel better.”

“I’m just saying that it’s not outside the realm of possibility. Believing those dreams to be reality… You would too, if you had them.” 

Shizuka was finding it hard to keep his eyes on the road. “So, you’re saying you’re, what? Connecting with another reality?” 

“I’m not doing anything. It stopped, remember?” Kimihiro said. “But yes. Yes, that’s what they’re like.” 

Shizuka pulled into their driveway, and stopped the car. He turned to look at his boyfriend, aware that his face was wide open, showing his emotions the way he rarely did. “Kimihiro, it’s talk like that is scaring me.” 

Kimihiro saw his face, and something softened in his eyes, turning to a sadness Shizuka didn’t understand. “It’s fine, okay? I’m fine.” 

Shizuka let out a breath. “I just… want you to be okay.” 

Kimihiro sat for a minute, before unbuckling and leaning across the middle consul to give Shizuka a kiss on the cheek. Then he whispered, “Thanks,” and grabbed his bag, getting out with a heaviness that was now all too common in his limbs. 

Shizuka felt that old swoop in his stomach, as he did whenever Kimihiro kissed him, ever since they were newly dating. It was like it was a promise, that things would be alright. Shizuka sighed, rubbing his head, before getting out of the car as well. They both had such a habit of getting caught up in the stress of life, of going against each other rather than with. It made it hard to listen, hard to understand. But they’d gotten this far, hadn’t they? 

Shizuka closed the car door, and followed Kimihiro into the house.


	8. We're Not That Different, You and I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nature of the dreams change yet again, and Kimihiro is unable to keep it a secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay - Work got crazy, and Tsubasa week on tumblr has been taking up my time. Hope you enjoy!

That night, Kimihiro inevitably dreamed again, but this time he resolved to focus more on the dreams. After the day at the doctor’s, and the fighting with Shizuka, he was ready for this to be over. He was tired of just drifting through this, and letting things happen. He knew that there was something he needed to do, so he needed to figure out what the hell it was, and _do_ it. 

Kimihiro knew it had to end soon, for his own sanity, and for Shizuka’s. He didn’t want to lie to him, but telling him the truth was obviously far worse. And Shizuka already suspected, it was only a matter of time before he would be back in the doctor’s office, but this time with commitment paperwork.

So, he reached out in the dream, trying to make it more real. He tried to feel the tatami mats under his feet, tried to smell the tobacco in the air in the shop. Kimihiro’s other self was laying on the chaise lounge, draped in silks and smoking his pipe alone. Watanuki was obvious and raw in his mourning, and it hurt to see him. Kimihiro noticed that he usually appeared in the room while there was a guest, so to see Watanuki alone with no wish-maker to put on appearances for, was revealing. 

Kimihiro came closer, noticing how Watanuki’s younger, frozen face looked so much older than he should. His eyes were red, and draped in heavy shadows, lashes wet and clumped. His skin was sallow, and he was so thin. That combined with his teenage limbs, and the heavy fabric that surrounded his fragile body, he looked like a gust of wind would carry him away. 

He’d never really bothered to look over his other self so closely, nor had he gotten that close. Maybe that was what changed things, or perhaps it was just meant to happen then. 

Watanuki looked up, and stared straight at him. He looked dazedly startled, like he was surprised to be surprised. 

“And here I thought I had a customer,” Watanuki said slowly, with his eyes fixed on Kimihiro’s. 

Kimihiro tried to come up with a response, tried to say anything, but instead, he stumbled backwards in the dream, and woke with a start in his bed. Kimihiro sat up, breathing quickly, and reeling. That had never happened before, Watanuki never saw him. Only Yuuko had spoken to him, once, and that was because she’d done this, right? How… Kimihiro shook his head. It didn’t matter. If Watanuki could see him, then he could start to do whatever it was that he was supposed to. 

Kimihiro lay back down, hoping that his movements hadn’t woken Shizuka, hoping he’d fall asleep again quickly and get back there, to understand further what had happened, what he was supposed to do. His heart was beating too quickly for a long time, but eventually, fatigue won out, and he dropped back into the dream. 

It was the Shopkeeper again. Again, Watanuki didn’t see him immediately. Kimihiro watched from the back of the sitting room as Watanuki granted a wish. It was a old woman, who dearly wanted to see her child again - long since flown away to America. The price Watanuki asked for was wrong, thought Kimihiro didn’t know how he knew it. He watched as the woman took the item she’d be able to sell for a ticket, in exchange for a necklace that had been her husband's. It wasn’t enough, and Watanuki hid a wince as bruise blossomed, already purple, on his wrist. 

“Dumbass,” Kimihiro said under his breath, and Watanuki turned at the sound. 

“You?” he said. The customer turned as well, but she couldn’t see anything. Watanuki didn’t bother explaining, looking at Kimihiro with some kind of emotion that looked uncanny on his face. Calculation and control. 

Watanuki stood, and turned towards him, while Kimihiro took a step back. 

“I saw you once before,” he stated. “Months ago.” 

“Months?” Kimihiro asked, but then Shizuka’s alarm cut in, and he woke, heart pounding. 

Shizuka was stirring next to him, groaning about the alarm as he reached out his arm to shut it off. Kimihiro tried to keep still and breathe normally, so he wouldn’t let him know that he was awake, but as Shizuka blinked himself closer to consciousness, he noticed. 

“You ‘wake?” he mumbled in what was barely a question, shifting around on his pillow, and ending up closer to Kimihiro. 

Kimihiro nodded. “Your alarm is too loud,” he said, blaming what actually woke him. 

“Sorry,” Shizuka mumbled back, edging closer to Kimihiro. “‘S too early anyway.” 

“Well, I’m awake now.” Kimihiro knew he wouldn’t be getting to sleep, so he pulled back his side of the blankets. “I’ll get breakfast started.” 

Shizuka reached for him as he slid out of bed, mumbling a protest. “Come back to bed for a minute…” 

Kimihiro eyed him, hazy without his glasses, wondering if Shizuka was suspicious of anything, but no, his face was just a pathetic (if subtle) pout. The lug just wanted to cuddle. 

“You’re clingy,” Kimihiro said, but then, he didn’t actually _not_ want to cuddle with Shizuka, so he lay down again and let Shizuka engulf him in his arms. There were tired kisses pressed to his cheek and ear, which tickled, before Shizuka tucked his face against his neck and breathed like he was falling asleep again. 

Kimihiro sighed, calming the happy fuzz that had started in his chest, and wrapped his arms more fully around Shizuka. 

“Truly, the most clingy. And needy. Look at you, it’s ridiculous.” 

“You like it,” Shizuka mumbled. 

“I allow it,” Kimihiro countered, and kissed Shizuka’s temple, feeling more relaxed. He would figure this out, and then life could get back to normal. Back to this. 

*~*~*

 

From then on, every night was a dream. Kimihiro always opened his eyes in the shop, watching the Shopkeeper live his lonely life. Sometimes he only observed, and the other him made no indication that he could see him. Those nights, he sometimes saw him granting wishes, or speaking with his Doumeki, or the other creatures that lived with him. Other times he witnessed Watanuki in the most extraordinary pain and loneliness, deep into depression, drink or smoke. It _hurt_ something in Kimihiro, an empathy he’d never experienced. He had to help him. 

Other times, Watanuki would see him. Speak to him. Their conversations were short, usually cut off by Kimihiro waking up abruptly, but it still left Kimihiro feeling off. It disturbed him on some level that he couldn’t define. 

It was dragging on with little progress again, and it was starting to affect his daily life once more. Before, after Watanuki became the Shopkeeper, the visits were depressing and boring, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to be looking for, but at least he was getting his rest. Now though… he was talking to his other self. The confusion and urgency to say something, to understand what was happening and what he was supposed to do were growing. Kimihiro was growing restless at night and exhausted during the day. 

Coffee again became his friend. He fell asleep on his couch during cleaning and missed the beginning of his shift again. An alarm on his phone fixed that problem, but it was only going to get worse. And if it got worse, then Shizuka would notice, and he’d end up back in the doctor’s office. 

The sleeping pills he’d been prescribed didn’t help. The dreams were the same, though instead of waking up from them, when they ended (too soon to understand) he’d fall into strange lucid dreams in bright colors, to be stuck there until the drug keeping him asleep wore off. He stopped taking those after only a couple nights. 

With all this going on, Kimihiro tried to keep up the functionality he’d gained back in the last reprieve, but the exhaustion and frustration were growing. 

The next night, Kimihiro realized that he wasn’t the only one feeling frustrated. When he became aware of the shop’s sitting room around him, he found that Watanuki was ready for him. 

The Shopkeeper faced him directly and threw something on the ground in front of Kimihiro. He was some sort of ball, but before Kimihiro could question it or get a good look it sprung open and fine strings, like fishing wire or spider’s silk burst out and caught him fast. 

Kimihiro didn’t think to struggle for a moment, too surprised that he could feel the net around him, too startled that Watanuki had trapped him. Watanuki stepped closer, a curious and mildly pleased look on his face. 

“It’s been months since you started appearing. I want to know what you’re doing here, how you’re getting inside my barriers. Are you some sort of spirit? Why do you have my face?” 

Kimihiro frowned, wriggling a little. “What? No, I’m not a spirit, I’m…” Well, there was no reason not to say the truth. “I’m you. From another place.” 

The Shopkeeper looked like he was expecting any explanation other than that one. His eyes widened behind his round frames. 

“I know there are other worlds, but what you’re saying is truly impossible. There can’t be a copy of me.” 

Kimihiro sighed. “Now my own dreams are telling me _I’m_ not possible, isn’t that comforting,” Kimihiro said, trying to pull on the strings. There was no give at all.

“Dream? Yes, maybe that’s…” 

“You’re the dream,” Kimihiro protested. “I’m dreaming. Or well, I know this is real, but I’m asleep right now.” 

“You’re dreaming,” Watanuki said, not really as a question. Kimihiro answered anyway. 

“Yes.” 

“Why are you here then, me from another place?” The Shopkeeper asked, and Kimihiro had no answer for him. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. Watanuki seemed to consider thoughtfully, a finger on his lip. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

Kimihiro sighed in aggravation. “I really don’t know!” 

“I don’t believe you’re me. You must be a spirit, tricking me.” 

“I’m not- what are you doing?” Kimihiro asked, for Watanuki was coming forward, and then he placed a hand flat on Kimihiro’s chest, right over his heart. The hand was small, and Kimihiro was reminded again that Watanuki was a teenager in body. Still, it didn’t matter as Kimihiro couldn’t move and inch, and couldn’t even back away as the Shopkeeper narrowed his eyes, as if concentrating. 

Kimihiro woke too soon to feel what he was doing to him, but his chest still burned where the other him had touched him. He was panting, and he needed… he ran, sliding out of bed and to the bathroom, turning the tap on full blast. 

Kimihiro knew that Shizuka had woken up, knew he wouldn’t be able to hide this, but his chest was tight and his breath wouldn’t even out, and even the cold water on his face made him think about the sensation of waking up, over and over again no closer to an answer. He was trembling, unable to form a coherent thought over the noise. 

Because, Watanuki had trapped him, had done something to him. He didn’t believe him, he thought he was something tricking him, and so the next time he dreamed, he’d probably be ready for him, and what if he hurt him, or killed him or exorcised him, or something? Could he die in the dream? His thoughts were spiraling, and he barely noticed Shizuka standing in the door frame, looking tired and disappointed. 

“I thought you said they’d stopped,” he said, and Kimihiro could only look at him, apologies and frenzied hysteria on his face, tears beginning to drop from his eyes. Shizuka breathed in when he saw him, and came forward, pulling his shaking form into his chest. 

“Hey,” he said, rubbing Kimihiro’s back, trying to calm him down. “It’s okay, sh…” 

Kimihiro gulped, and let out a sob, before burying his face into Shizuka’s tee shirt, trying to match his breathing. It felt like it took a long time for his mind to clear, and his body to still. After that, he just wanted to sleep, to really sleep and not dream at all. He could barely remember the last time he’d slept without dreaming. 

Shizuka gathered him back to bed once he was calmer, and standing on his own feet instead of leaning heavily on him. They both lay down, and Shizuka curled up around him, arms secure on his back, and with Kimihiro pressing his forehead into Shizuka’s shoulder. Shizuka was rubbing his back incessantly, like he didn’t know what to do if he stopped. God, he was probably panicking as much as Kimihiro was, with the added hurt of being lied to. 

“I’m sorry,” Kimihiro said, voice raw, and Shizuka nearly flinched. 

“Did they stop at all?” he asked, hurt clear in his voice. 

Kimihiro shook his head, not wanting this conversation now, but knowing that it was coming regardless. 

Shizuka was tense, and his heart was too quick. Kimihiro concentrated on that thump thump, as Shizuka asked the next question. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered, and his chest hitched. Kimihiro took a breath, and swallowed, trying to come up with an explanation that wouldn’t make him sound insane, that would ease Shizuka’s fear without lying to him. There was nothing. 

“You were so worried,” he breathed. 

“I’m still worried,” Shizuka said. His hands stilled on Kimihiro’s back. “God, Kimihiro, I’m terrified. I just want you to be okay.” 

“I’m okay,” Kimihiro said, gripping Shizuka’s shirt. “I’ll be okay. I’ll figure it out, and he’ll be okay too, and then it’ll stop.”

Shizuka froze, and Kimihiro realized what he’s said. 

“ _He_?” Shizuka whispered, sounding choked. Kimihiro let his suddenly cold fingers fall from Shizuka’s chest. 

“Um,” he muttered, pulling back. Shizuka held him tighter, not letting him move. Again, Kimihiro was trapped. 

“Tell me what you mean,” Shizuka demanded, but Kimihiro couldn’t take the bonds around him. He shoved Shizuka back, freeing himself and scrambled to the other edge of the bed, panting again. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he breathed, and Shizuka too was wide eyed and breathing quickly. He’d never felt afraid in Shizuka’s arms, and it broke his heart to see the expression of pain and terror on Shizuka’s face.

“Kimihiro, what’s going on?” Shizuka asked, voice thick, now keeping a careful distance.

Kimihiro screwed up his face, and clutched the bedclothes beneath his kneeling frame. 

“Every night, I dream of that other place. Of the other me, the Shopkeeper. He’s the wish granter now, now that Yuuko-san is dead, and he’s hurting so much, Shizuka. He’s so lonely, and he needs help, and I have to help him. Once I figure out how, then this will stop.” 

Shizuka was frozen on the other side of the bed, unsure and afraid, and Kimihiro ached that he had to do this to him. 

“Wh- why do you have to help him?” Shizuka asked, and Kimihiro realized he was trying to understand. “Why does it have to be you?” 

“I don’t know,” Kimihiro gasped. “I don’t understand any more than you do. I- he’s _me_ , Shizuka. I want to help him. I have to help him.” 

Shizuka bowed his head, so Kimihiro couldn’t even see his blurry expression. “Kimihiro-” he pulled in a breath, too loud, too quick. “I wish I could… I want to believe you, but it’s impossible. It’s… He’s not real, he can’t be.” 

Something inside Kimihiro twisted, crystallized hope convulsing before it shattered as Shizuka spoke. 

“You don’t believe me,” Kimihiro said, faintly, and Shizuka reached out. 

“I believe you believe it.” 

“That’s not the same thing!” Kimihiro twisting again from the hand on the middle of the bed. He snatched his pillow, rage billowing up to cover the agony. “I’m not crazy. This is not in my head!” He clenched his fists in his pillow, to cover up his shaking. 

“Kimihiro-”

“No. I don’t want to hear you say it anymore,” Kimihiro said, and stalked out of the room. He made it to the couch in the dark, and didn’t bother with a blanket, even though he felt chilled to the core. He shoved his face into the pillow, and tried to stop himself from crying again. He didn’t sleep either, and he didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think!


	9. It Scares You, Being Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shizuka wants to believe. Kimihiro is just tired.

Shizuka didn’t move after Kimihiro left, until the chill of the pre-dawn air made his limbs stiff. He was hunched on the side of their bed, one hand still reached out on the mussed blankets, like he was still reaching for Kimihiro. His other hand was twisted in the fabric of his tee shirt, pressing against his nausea. 

In his head, thoughts chased each other around in circles. The accompanying feelings tightened his chest, and made his stomach roil. The shortness of breath made his head spin even more, and he wondered idly if he’d actually throw up. He hadn’t done that because of anxiety since he was a teen… 

Kimihiro had been lying to him, for weeks. He’d been hiding the true extent of the problem, lying to the doctor, and telling his boyfriend that there was nothing wrong. Hurt was a physical pain in his heart. 

Kimihiro believed it. All the hints, all the vague thoughts over the past few weeks were truth. Kimihiro truly believed that he was visiting another world, and that his alternate self needed his help. It made no sense at all, but then again, that was what made it a delusion, right? 

It couldn’t be true. It was something that Kimihiro’s brain was making up, something unreal and impossible. And because of that, Kimihiro wasn’t functioning, he wasn’t able to do his job, to take care of the things that were important to him, or to keep up with any of his projects or plans. And Shizuka was terrified, because he had to take Kimihiro back to the doctor, and who knew what they’d say. They could give him medication that would change who he was, or commit him to a hospital. Shizuka had only vague ideas based on movies of what would happen next, and all of it was scaring him badly. 

And yet...what if it was real? As he denied it for being impossible, to every logical section of his brain, there was still a tiny part of him that felt like there was a chance it was true. What if Kimihiro wasn’t delusional? What if he really was reaching out across dimensions? Wasn’t that preferable? 

Of course, it was, but that didn’t mean that Shizuka could believe it. 

Could he? 

Shizuka gulped a breath, moving for the first time in hours, and his stomach lurched. He breathed through it, bowing his head, praying they’d get through this. What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? Did he drag Kimihiro to another appointment? Did he wait it out? Did he insist they do an MRI in case it really was a tumor or something worse? 

_I can’t do this, I can’t do this_

And why did his mind keep pinging with the thought that it could be true? He’d always believed in Kimihiro. He trusted Kimihiro with his life, so what if this was beyond belief, he’d promised to stay by Kimihiro time and time again, how could he betray him like he had last night? 

And if it was true, and Kimihiro had been seeing terrible, strange, and magic things for months… then Shizuka had left him all on his own. Even the hypothetical idea broke his heart even more. 

Shizuka groaned and dug his fingers into his hair, then scrubbed his face, trying to push reason back into his brain, trying to get a hold of his fear, and make it through the day. God, he still had to work today, and so did Kimihiro… 

He dragged himself out of the bedroom around dawn, when the birds were singing outside. He stumbled out into the living room with an ache in his stomach, and his heart beating too fast in pressed down panic. Kimihiro was lying on the couch, his face pressed into the pillow, and his shirt ridden up to show his hip, and knobby spine. He visibly tensed as Shizuka approached, so he guessed he wasn’t asleep. 

Shizuka stood there for a bit, not wanting to go too close in case he panicked Kimihiro again. 

“Kimihiro,” he said, almost too quietly. “We… need to talk.” 

Kimihiro nodded, shifting a little back from the pillow, but still not turning around. 

“I’ll go,” he said, with not a drop of fight left in him. “If it helps you, I’ll go.” 

Shizuka wanted to cry out. This wasn’t what he wanted, not at all. But, Kimihiro had made his decision. He believed in what he was saying so firmly, that he’d go back to the doctor, and tell the truth, come what may. It also meant that he’d subject himself to all that, solely because it was what Shizuka was asking for, to ease his peace of mind, even if it ruined Kimihiro’s life. Shizuka wanted to break down right there. 

Instead, he wrapped his arms around himself, and murmured, “I’ll make an appointment for you.” 

“Okay,” Kimihiro said. They were quiet for a moment, and Shizuka felt the space between them yawn wider, before Kimihiro sighed, and sat up, looking small and frail. He reached out for Shizuka, and Shizuka came, drawing him into a hug. It felt like it was for dear life. 

“I’m sorry,” Kimihiro whispered again, and Shizuka shook his head, eyes burning before he closed them against Kimihiro’s shoulder. It was him who should be apologizing. If he could only just believe him. 

*~*~*

It was unfathomable that Shizuka still had to go to work that day, after the upsetting night and morning. He was exhausted, and worn, dragging himself from the couch with a murmur to go and get dressed. Kimihiro had to go to work that day as well, which was not really a comfort, but amazingly, he seemed to be acting normal. Well, their new base of normal. 

Shizuka emerged in his slacks to find Kimihiro had popped some toast in for him, and was making him a poached egg with salt and pepper. Simple breakfast, but enough effort that Shizuka knew Kimihiro was again apologizing. He ate it steadfastly, if uncomfortably, in his own apology, and kissed Kimihiro’s head before leaving. 

Shizuka arrived at the university to find minor disasters everywhere. A student had lost his homework, another was dealing with dating issues and cried in his office the whole of his morning drop-in hours, his notes for his lecture class had disappeared, so he had to wing it on nothing but a handful of slides until he got to his normal lunch hour. 

He shut and locked his office door firmly, and turned out the light, wondering if he could possibly squeeze in a nap before his next class. Shizuka picked at a frozen dinner he’d grabbed, reheated too much and sticky rather than saucy, as his face dropped onto his palm. 

Just then, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. It was past Kimihiro’s start time at work, so he wouldn’t be calling unless something was wrong - a moment later the burst of panic disappeared into confusion, and another concern, because it was Himawari on his caller ID. He answered, dropping his fork back into the unappetising mess. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, Shizuka, how are you? Did I catch you on your lunch break?” Himawari said, ever bright. 

“Yeah, I’m eating now,” Shizuka said, ignoring the question about how he was. Too hard to answer now. 

“Oh, good, I’d hoped. It’s my day off now, and I just wanted to…” Her tone dimmed. “I’m actually calling to see how Kimihiro is doing, but it sounds like you’re still worried. Is he still not sleeping well?” 

“No,” Shizuka said. That wasn’t the worst of it, but he didn’t want to go into to too many details. Himawari was a close friend to both of them, but he didn’t think that his fears for Kimihiro’s mind, or the decision last night should be shared outside family. It was just too personal, and it was up to Kimihiro to say who he wanted to tell. Still, Shizuka was longing for someone to talk to… 

There was a beat of silence, and Himawari sighed. “I see. I didn’t think so… I heard from Sorata that Kimihiro asked Yuuko for a week off today.” 

“He did?” Shizuka asked, a wave of alarm rushing through him. He was serious about going to the doctor, and about letting them do what they will. 

“Yeah, sorry, I thought you might not know.” She paused for a long moment. “Shizuka… is he okay?” 

Shizuka couldn’t answer her. Himawari seemed to understand. 

“It’s okay, I know you don’t like talking about him while he’s not here. I know how worried you are about him.”

“Mhm,” Shizuka agreed. He knew that if Himawari were here, she’d have her arms around him in a hug in no time. It would probably make him feel better, but he couldn’t help but be glad no one was in here to see his expression. He was sure that it was unusually broken; that was how he felt, after all. 

“Shizuka, I don’t really know what to say, but I want you both to know that I’m here for you, okay? If you need me to bring over anything, or keep either of your company, or, or, _anything_ really! I’ll be there.” 

“Thanks,” Shizuka said, and Himawari continued. 

“And, I know you might feel like you’re not doing it right, but Kimihiro knows you love him. Just stand by him, and show him you won’t give up on him, and I know he’ll appreciate it so much.” 

Shizuka felt his chest catch, because he really didn’t feel like he was standing by him. He felt like he was betraying him. Because Shizuka was scared, and couldn’t believe him when he begged for him to listen, Kimihiro was going to go see professionals and who knew what they’d say?

How could Shizuka do this to him? 

“Shizuka?” 

“I’ll talk to you later, Himawari. Thank you for calling,” Shizuka kept his voice toneless, and polite, and Himawari said her goodbyes quickly. After, he put the phone down, shoved aside his awful lunch, and put his face into his hands. 

*~*~*

The appointment was made for late morning a day later, so Kimihiro spent the day quietly, tidying the house after Shizuka left for work, and then going to his job when the time came. He had a short shift, and when he had a break, he went into Yuuko’s office to request the next week off for medical reasons. It was likely obvious to look at him that he wasn’t well, so she agreed quickly, with a flinty look of concern in her eyes. Kimihiro didn’t bother to explain, but finished out his shift and went home without interacting much with anyone. 

Shizuka came home after he did, looking horrible, but he still kissed him in the kitchen like normal, while Kimihiro cooked some simple ramen (still way better than the store bought packages, though!). They didn’t talk much, but Shizuka made a valiant effort to finish the broth in his bowl, if not all the toppings, even though Kimihiro knew he had to be more than anxious. 

Kimihiro had, surprisingly, been rather calm that day. Perhaps it was because it was all out on the table now. He’d taken the steps at work, and he had accepted Shizuka’s decision. He still didn’t know what would happen in the dreams, or how he could help the Shopkeeper, but he was resolved to do his best. 

That night, he slipped into the dreams as easy as breathing, and opened his eyes to that sitting room. The Shopkeeper was there, and looked unsurprised by his appearance. He looked better, a little, Kimihiro noticed. More upright on the couch, and his clothes were straightened and tidy, rather than draping off him. He smiled in greeting. 

Kimihiro, feeling slightly startled by it all, blinked at him. 

“It’s been quite some time, hasn’t it?” he asked, gesturing to a seat at the small table, usually reserved for customers. Kimihiro didn’t sit, unsure why he was receiving politeness, when last time Watanuki had accused him of being a spirit trickster. 

“Actually, I saw you last night. You… what was that net?” 

The Shopkeeper frowned, looking oddly apologetic. “It’s only been one night for you?” 

“Yeah. One night, between which Shizuka has been convinced I’m going insane… I’ll probably talk to you next from a mental hospital.” 

“Shizuka?” Watanuki asked him, looking momentarily off put. 

“Yes, Shizuka. Ah, Doumeki.” Kimihiro hadn’t brought up that they were together. That wouldn’t make the Shopkeeper any more open to believing he was real. From his observations of this world, that would never happen for the ‘them’ here. 

“You call him by his first name?” 

“I live in America,” Kimihiro said, dragging for excuses. 

“Oh,” Watanuki said, sounding unconvinced. “Well, anyway, I apologize for last time. I wanted to talk to you. I still do. Will you stay and sit for a while?” He again gestured for the table, but Kimihiro remained further back. 

“I’m good over here.” 

“Fair enough.” 

There was a moment’s pause, and then Kimihiro spoke up. 

“I know you don’t believe me. Even though _I know_ it’s not the weirdest thing you’ve had to deal with-” 

Watanuki cut him off. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s only that it was impossible, I thought.” 

“You know there are other worlds. You walk in dreams. If anyone should believe this, it’s you.” Kimihiro was frowning, and he became aware that his fists were clenched. 

“No, I meant… I thought it was impossible for another _me_ to exist. I’m not exactly a typical… being.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m a human,” Kimihiro said, folding his arms. “So, maybe it’s not so impossible. And please, don’t start calling me delusional too, because I don’t think I can take being called that in my dreams as well as real life.” 

The Shopkeeper blinked at that, an emotion crossing his face, one of the more clear ones since he’d become the Shopkeeper and gotten so unreadable. It looked like Watanuki understood. Kimihiro knew he did. 

Watanuki took a breath, and lowered his hands to the pot of tea that had been laid on the table since he got there. 

“It seems you have an idea of who and what I am. How long have you been dreaming of me?”

Kimihiro watched as he poured a cup of tea, and then set it towards Kimihiro’s side of the table, though he didn’t really think he was solid enough to drink. Then, he poured himself a cup, waiting for his answer. 

Kimihiro sighed. “I’ve seen you for years in your time. It’s been a few months for me. I saw you in high school. I saw Doumeki, Himawari, Yuuko-san… I’ve seen your whole time as Shopkeeper.” 

There was, surprisingly a faint pink on Watanuki’s cheeks, and he looked mildly displeased. 

“Well, I’ll admit it’s a little embarrassing to hear that. Those are some of my worst times… no wonder you look at me with such pity. Is your life so wonderful that mine is so tragic?” 

Kimihiro ducked his head, feeling rude, even though it was all things out of his control. It was true he pitied the Shopkeeper, and felt sorrow for his life of misfortune and sadness. He hadn’t meant to show it, and he certainly didn’t want to rub his life in Watanuki’s face, but the fact was that he was happy. He loved Shizuka, loved his job and their house, and daily routine. He wanted to help Watanuki be as happy as he was, and he wanted to accomplish what he was supposed to do so he could go back to normal as well. 

“I want to help you, Kimihiro,” he said, unsure of what to call his double. “I’m you, somehow. And, yes, I want your life to be happy and peaceful. I don’t know exactly why I’m here, or why I got to see your life, or even why we can talk now when you’ve never seen me before. But I’ll figure it out, and this will stop. Yuuko-san herself told me that this was necessary. This is _important_.”

The teacup crashed to the table. Startled, Kimihiro saw that Watanuki had gone pale, and wide-eyed, not noticing the brown liquid and sharp shards now littering the little table and threatening his silk sleeves. 

“Yuuko-san?” he said, his voice a gasp. 

“Y-yes?” Kimihiro replied, taking a step closer, reaching out to try and clean up, or stop Watanuki from hurting himself on the shattered china. 

“You saw her? When? She spoke to you?” 

“She, she did.” Kimihiro was close to the table now, and so had to reel back when Watanuki stood, rounding the mess and reach for him. Two hands grabbed at him, desperation making him strong. Watanuki’s small palm latched onto Kimihiro’s wrist, and the other in his shirt sleeve, shaking him by the shoulder. 

“What did she say?” Watanuki begged. Kimihiro put his free hand on Watanuki’s wrist, trying to calm him down. 

“Not much, it was years ago for you, just as she was disappearing. She didn’t say much to me, just that there was a reason to be here. And that I had to help you.” 

Watanuki shook his head, holding him harder, and the hand on Kimihiro’s wrist was burning at the pressure and with something else, like the magic from yesterday that had made his chest hurt so. 

“Did she say when she was coming back?” 

“No-” Kimihiro gasped, hurting in earnest now. “But, please let me go, I’m here to help.” 

Watanuki twisted away from him, a snarl on his face. 

“I don’t need your help. I need her, she has to come back-” 

“Kimihiro-” 

“Leave,” Watanuki said. “Go!” 

“I don’t know how-” 

And then Kimihiro sat up in his bed, breathing hard.


	10. You're the Anchor I Tie to my Brain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a final push, Shizuka believes

Shizuka wondered if he’d been waiting to be woken. Kimihiro’s dreams were a nightly occurrence, and after their argument and agreement yesterday, it felt like the other shoe was going to drop. He woke quickly when Kimihiro stiffened, gasped and sat up. Shizuka tried not to moan, fighting his exhaustion to lift up his head. 

Kimihiro was still sitting there, panting and hunched over his lap. And it looked like he was holding his arm oddly. 

“You okay?” he asked, ignoring the fact that the night previous it had been established that he wasn’t okay at all. 

Kimihiro rubbed his face, still leaving one arm limp in his lap. “Yeah. No, my arm hurts.” 

He shifted to get up, and Shizuka sat up too. Kimihiro had probably just slept on it wrong, but there was something in his tone that made Shizuka frown and follow after him. Kimihiro headed to the bathroom, but protested when Shizuka got up. 

“You don’t have to-” 

“Let me see,” he asked, squinting as he reached Kimihiro and took his hand, before he flipped on the bathroom light. It was bright, but even before his eyes had adjusted, he could tell that Kimihiro’s arm looked… mottled, like a bruise was forming. What the hell?

Kimihiro’s eyes widened when he saw it, and he tried to pull away. “I’ll get some ice…” 

“Wait,” Shizuka said, holding a little tighter, and peering closer. The bruise or burn was wrapped around Kimihiro’s wrist, and he saw that there were, distinctly, five marks. Like fingers, gripping hard enough to bruise. Shizuka moved his hand to gently wrap his own hand around the spot, and his fingers were far too big. 

Then he noticed that Kimihiro was shaking, and Shizuka let go like a shot. 

“Kimihiro-” 

“It wasn’t me, I swear…” Kimihiro stammered, his voice trembling. “I, he didn’t mean to, I promise...” 

Shizuka realized that Kimihiro was talking about the other him, the other Kimihiro once more, but all these doubts, and his doubts about his doubts, couldn’t hide this fact in front of him. Someone with smaller hands than him ( _and_ Kimihiro) had just grabbed Kimihiro’s arm and twisted hard enough to bruise, and the right wrist was bruised with a right hand, so if it wasn’t Shizuka in his sleep (he would never) and it couldn’t have been Kimihiro twisting his arm himself, it was only possible that there had been someone else affecting Kimihiro somehow. If not dreams then what? 

Shizuka reached forward gently again, because Kimihiro was hunched small and pulling away. 

“I didn’t do it,” he said, his voice pleading. “Just- just let me get some ice, and you can tell me I’m going insane later.” 

Shizuka could hear the fear, the begging, the pain in his voice. He knew now that Shizuka didn’t believe him. Kimihiro was bracing for him to call him crazy again. Kimihiro was going to let Shizuka rip apart his mind, and their relationship. Again. 

Emotion choked him, and he could barely look at Kimihiro as he choked out. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, Kimihiro…” 

Kimihiro met his eyes with a broken expression. “What?” he croaked. 

Shizuka’s heart broke. “I believe you,” he breathed, and Kimihiro’s face went from agony to a hesitant joy in moments. Tears filled Kimihiro’s eyes, and then Shizuka could take the distance between them no longer. He reached out, and Kimihiro fell into his hug, squeezing him tightly. Kimihiro gulped two quick breaths, and then Shizuka held on as every stress and hurt poured out of Kimihiro in great wrenching sobs. 

Because it was true. It was the only thing that made sense, the only thing that felt real. His instincts had been telling him to listen to Kimihiro, and now in his soul he knew that this was the truth, however illogical it may have seemed. 

And Shizuka cried a few tears of his own, hidden in Kimihiro’s hair, because he’d done this. He’d betrayed Kimihiro, and left him so alone to deal with all that had been happening. 

“I’m sorry, I’m here. I’m with you, I won’t leave you alone again, sh,” he began murmuring, over and over again, while Kimihiro cried. 

Eventually, his sobs slowed, and he gasped a reply. “I know,” he got out, voice raw. “I know. You always are.” 

“I wasn’t,” Shizuka said, and pressed his forehead to Kimihiro’s, eyes squeezed closed in pain. “I’m sorry.” 

Kimihiro took a shaky breath, and pulled back. Shizuka opened his eyes to see him, and noticed how Kimihiro looked steadier than he had for weeks, even though his eyes were puffy and shadowed. 

“We can agree you’re a dumbass, then?” he decided to say, voice quiet. Shizuka actually snorted, glimpsing the Kimihiro that he loved. Irreverent as always. 

“Don’t laugh, that’s rude,” Kimihiro said, somehow smiling a little. Shizuka pulled back enough to see it clearly. It felt like the sun, for how amazing it was to see. Shizuka lifted a hand to Kimihiro’s cheek, and wiped away streaks of tears. 

“Forgive me?” he asked, and Kimihiro leaned up and kissed him. Then, he pulled back and frowned exaggeratedly. 

“Just barely, I swear to god you’re walking a thin line.” 

“Phew.” Shizuka smiled a little himself, feeling so much lighter. He kissed him again, tasting the salt of tears, and then brushed his hair back. They had to talk about it, to figure out now what they were going to do, but they were together now. Shizuka wouldn’t leave Kimihiro alone to face this. And with both of them, there was nothing that seemed insurmountable. 

*~*~*

Since Kimihiro had the doctor’s appointment that morning, and Kimihiro had taken the time off anyway, neither of them had work right away, so first thing Shizuka did after they both calmed a little, and gotten an ice pack for Kimihiro’s arm, was turn off the alarms and drag Kimihiro back to bed. They were both drained with relief, and Kimihiro was exhausted most of the time now, so it was easy to wrap up in each other’s arms and fall asleep again. Shizuka hoped, with his last conscious thought, that Kimihiro’s was dreamless. 

In the morning, Shizuka canceled the appointment, and they lounged in bed, as Kimihiro explained more about what had been happening to him. Shizuka listened again to things that Kimihiro had seen, what he’d guessed and what he knew. And Shizuka believed it all. He knew it was real. 

He’d heard some of it before, but all laid out, it was an incredibly sad story. It was no wonder that Kimihiro wanted to help him so bad. The other Kimihiro was alone, and trapped, with no one there mostly because of his own stupidity. The other Shizuka… it sounded like he had tried very hard to do what Shizuka would always want to do… but there was only so long that his strength would last. It broke Shizuka’s heart, and likely Kimihiro’s heart as well, that the other two of them would never have the love that they shared. 

But it truly was an almost incomprehensible story. Kimihiro paused and grimaced often in the storytelling, assuring him that somehow this made sense, and that it was real. Shizuka would just squeeze his hand firmly, assuring him that he was there, and listening. 

Magic, and dimensional witches, and some unknown task to help a wish granting shopkeeper aside, Kimihiro looked so much better, and he kept meeting Shizuka’s eyes with a grateful smile. 

Shizuka was positive that he’d hurt him, that he’d betrayed him, and fractured the trust that had grown between them over the years, but still Kimihiro smiled at him. Shizuka wanted to repay that gift somehow. 

With all the explanations done, and Kimihiro quietly laying in his embrace, completely relaxed for the first time in a while, Shizuka found that he just wanted to help. What could he do, now that he knew? Support Kimihiro, that much was obvious. But was there a way to do more? 

“So, what now?” Shizuka whispered, as the late morning sun arched into their bedroom. Kimihiro was facing him, and Shizuka watched as his face went tense. He took a breath, and looked away, his eyes growing wet. 

“He’s… heartbroken. In pain. Unstable. I can feel it. We’re the same, and I feel like… I have to help him, somehow. If I don’t… then he’ll never get better. I don’t know how but, I want to. He paused, and then corrected himself, looking straight at Shizuka. “I _need_ to.” 

Shizuka squeezed his hand, trying to be supportive. “Okay.” 

Kimihiro shrugged a little then, as if Shizuka had asked a question. “I’m not sure how. I’ll figure it out.” 

“We will figure it out. I’m here now,” Shizuka replied firmly. 

Kimihiro smiled, and then some of the fear seemed to come back into his eyes. His breath went a little shaky, and Shizuka lifted his hand to run it through Kimihiro’s hair. 

“I told you, I believe you.” 

Kimihiro let out the breath he’d held, and blinked away a couple of stray tears. 

“Thank you,” he said, and Shizuka leaned forward, and kissed him, trying to use that to assure, and promise, and comfort. 

*~*~*

The next few days passed much as they had been, except that Kimihiro wasn’t hiding from him anymore. He was still tired and tense, but at least he was more open about his frustrations. He only had about five days left of his days off, and apparently Kimihiro was no closer to figuring out what to do. He’d barely even spoken to the other him. He still woke in the middle of the night, a sharp gasp or just a shudder as he opened his eyes, but now he turned to Shizuka for comfort, and Shizuka held him in his arms until he slept again. He hoped it was helping. 

While Kimihiro was trying his hardest, Shizuka was beginning to be more and more preoccupied with what he could do to help. What could he do? How could he make this easier for Kimihiro, to get him through this, and help him succeed in his goal? But, neither of them were making much progress. Shizuka was convinced that he was supposed to find out, and he was supposed to help. And he was becoming more and more obsessed with the idea that support from the waking world was not enough. 

He had to go there too. But _how_ was the question? 

With access to the oldest books in the area, Shizuka dove into the school libraries, and into the many databases the university subscribed to. He researched dream walking, alternate universes, and fate. The sources ranged from scientifically worded physics articles, to ancient legends, to faddish books on dream interpretation. Nothing seemed to fit or even be close to their current situation. 

Shizuka put it all aside, and pondered in the study room at school, in his car, or in the empty dining room at the restaurant right when it opened (still a place of comfort since his server days). Nothing came to mind in the slightest. 

“My, someone’s thinking hard,” said a voice above him, and Shizuka looked up to see Yuuko smiling down at him. She had a hand on her hip, and was wearing a flouncy skirt, high heeled boots, and a low cut shirt as per the usual. 

“Yuuko,” Shizuka greeted, feeling an odd sort of dissonance as only days ago, he’d heard about the other world’s Yuuko being dead. Yuuko took his words as an invitation to sit down, chin in her hands. 

“So, what you are scrunching up your forehead for?” she asked, and Shizuka frowned at her, making her laugh a little. “Like that,” she said, pointing. “You’re too young for wrinkles.” 

Nearing thirty, it wasn’t quite true, but she was much older, so Shizuka guessed she was allowed to say that. She sat for a moment longer, sobering. 

“Could it be about dear Watanuki’s distraction of late? Worried about him?” 

She looked sympathetic, and she’d been something of a friend the whole time that Shizuka had known Kimihiro, during their long and tumultuous path to getting where they were. Shizuka didn’t want to share too much, nor did he want to earn the label that the doctor had almost given Kimihiro… but he needed to speak a little. 

He sighed, and shook his head. “Only that I can’t help.” 

Yuuko nodded. “Will he not let you help? Or will you not let yourself?” 

From anyone else, Shizuka would think that didn’t make any sense. But from Yuuko…

“What do I do?” 

Yuuko shrugged, smiling again slightly. 

“What you want to do. What you choose to do, I suppose. It’s the only way you can change things.” 

Shizuka nodded. He thought he might understand… something. 

“I want to … protect Kimihiro,” he stated. Yuuko smiled broader. 

“Then choose to do that.”


	11. Don't Walk Into Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that he believes Kimihiro's dreams are real, Shizuka is determined to follow Kimihiro to that other world. He's convinced he can help, and fate seems to prove he's right. Kimihiro has other ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay in updating, life went a bit nuts for a while.

That night, Kimihiro dreamed. Nothing new there, he’d dreamed every night for weeks on end now. Yet again, he’d appeared in the shop - there was never any variation on setting - and yet again, Watanuki the Shopkeeper was sitting on his couch, smoking. It was either that, or he’d interrupt a seating with a customer, or perhaps rarely he’d be cooking. This time, it was the couch. 

“It hasn’t been so long since I saw you last,” the Shopkeeper said, with what might have been confusion. 

“It’s only-” 

“Been one day for you?” Watanuki finished for Kimihiro, a knowing look on his face. Kimihiro huffed. 

“Yeah. One day. It’s every night for me, and I could really use a break, let me tell you!” 

The Shopkeeper wasn’t listening to his rant. 

“Once, it was a full three years between your visits.” 

“W-what?” Kimihiro was startled out of his annoyance. He hadn’t realized the time frame was that long. A new sense of urgency rose up within him. “How long has it been?” 

“Only three weeks this time.” 

“No, I mean…” Kimihiro’s voice fell quieter. “Since you’ve been in the shop.” 

Watanuki blinked. Kimihiro thought that he’d forgotten how much Kimihiro knew about him. 

“Ah… Nearly ten years, I think.” He looked unsure, as if he wasn’t positive of even the year it was. Kimihiro really couldn’t blame him. 

“Ten years…” _Alone_. He counted up roughly, and gave him a lopsided smile. “We’re nearly the same age.”

The Shopkeeper tilted his head at him, a look of true surprise flitting across his face. 

“You look the same as me,” Watanuki said, and there was a hint of… disappointment. Kimihiro could only shrug. 

“I’m twenty-six.” 

Watanuki looked very young then. “What do you really look like?” 

Kimihiro felt a tight feeling in his chest, as he realized that this Watanuki had never had a chance to grow up. He tried to imagine being stuck as his seventeen year old self, and couldn’t really manage it. It had been a long time ago. 

“I’m… taller. Not as thin. My hair is a little shorter. I suppose I don’t look all that different, though I imagine soon I’ll start getting wrinkles or something.” 

Watanuki took that in in silence, watching his face, as if looking for those differences. Kimihiro hadn’t realized that he didn’t project his actual self here. He supposed it would be too strange for the other Watanuki, to see a face that was his, but aged in a way that he’d never be. Whatever fate that was controlling the aspects of these dreams had thought of that, but not of a way for him to understand what he was supposed to do? 

After an awkward pause, Watanuki pulled out his pipe and lit whatever was in it, sending a cloud of smoke upwards. Kimihiro pulled a face, seeing as he could actually smell it in the dream lately. The Shopkeeper, his face back in an impassive mask, blew out the breath of smoke, and then met his eyes again. 

“Well, Kimihiro. I don’t know why you’re here. After three years, your mystery has proved most annoying. I don’t have an answer. I’m a dreamseer, but I don’t know about your world, or why you’ve been being brought here, or how you exist at all for that matter. 

Watanuki paused to take another drag. 

“As for _how_ you’ve been coming here, I’ve been looking into that as well.” Watanuki focused his heavy-lidded eyes on him again. “But I need to find out more about you, where you come from so… stop running off, alright?” 

“I don’t really know how to stop it.” 

“Well, just-” 

And with that, Kimihiro woke from the oddest conversation he’d ever had with himself, feeling all the more frustrated for it. 

The next morning, Kimihiro told the dream to Shizuka. He too seemed frustrated that they weren’t any closer to answers, but Kimihiro supposed it was a comfort of a sort that the Shopkeeper too was looking into this. Maybe Watanuki would find the answer in however long it would be for him until the visit tonight? 

The next dream, the Shopkeeper gave him a perturbed look as soon as he arrived. 

“I thought you said you wouldn’t run off,” he said. 

“I said I didn’t know how, not that I wouldn’t,” Kimihiro retorted, matching the annoyed expression. The Shopkeeper waved his hand, and then sat at the table, gesturing for Kimihiro to sit as well. 

“I don’t want to waste any time,” Watanuki started with immediately. “Where are you from?” Kimihiro realized that Watanuki wanted answers as much as he did, and while Kimihiro knew almost everything about Watanuki from his observations, the reverse was not true. 

“I live in California. I was born in New York, though.” 

“You have parents?” 

“Yes. And a step-mother. Half-brothers, too.” 

A sad, soft smile came over the Shopkeeper for a moment, and Kimihiro remembered with startling pain that this Watanuki was alone in the world. 

“What do you do? Do you ever use magic?” 

Kimihiro huffed. “Not that I’m aware of. There isn’t magic in our world, or nothing I know of. I’m a chef in a restaurant.” 

The questions went on like this until Kimihiro woke in the middle of talking about his house. He’d made it a habit to never mention his relationship with Shizuka, so it somewhat sounded like he lived alone, but Watanuki didn’t seem to notice. 

The next night, he was interrogated again, but Kimihiro added his own questions in as well. The conversations were pleasant enough, and each day passed with him getting near enough to enough rest to feel normal. He returned to work, and tried to keep on with life. But, all three: himself, Watanuki, and Shizuka, were growing frustrated. 

They were all looking into it, but no one found anything new. There was no wiki-how on this, and no ancient prophetic text in the other world. Kimihiro expressed his aggravation to Shizuka daily, and Shizuka was tense - not with annoyance or disbelief, but with something. He kept asking what he could do, how he could help, but Kimihiro had no answers for him. 

One night, Kimihiro saw the Shopkeeper’s Shizuka again. 

“Doumeki just arrived,” Watanuki said, as he bent to take a cheesecake out of the oven. It looked delicious, and Kimihiro had asked for the recipe. He had it written down on a piece of paper in his pocket, and was assured it would make it back to the real world somehow. 

“Ah. I should go then,” Kimihiro said, standing up from the counter. Today, Watanuki had been cooking when Kimihiro had arrived, and there were treats laid out across the counter. Apparently, not for any occasion, but just because the mood struck. Watanuki had said that he’d foist some off on Doumeki to bring to his work. And to eat, because a Doumeki was a Doumeki. 

Kimihiro paused, standing in the middle of the kitchen, as Watanuki and Mokona looked at him. “Actually, I don’t know how, so I guess I’m staying,” he said, and then sat back down. 

Watanuki made a disapproving noise. “You really should work on this. You know, when I was learning dreamwalking, I worked on-” 

“Yeah, but you’re magic,” Kimihiro said, interrupting. 

Kimihiro turned and pulled off the oven mitts ( a cute pink design that Kimihiro was immensely amused by). He was smiling an odd, knowing smile. 

“That’s true. But you have some too, or you wouldn’t be here, would you?” 

Kimihiro rolled his eyes, and then started at the girls running through the kitchen to get to the front door. 

“Jumpy,” Watanuki commented. 

“You would be too if you’d had the past months that I have.” 

“Welcome home!” Maru and Moro sang in unison from the other room. A familiar low voice replied. “I don’t live here.” A pang went through Kimihiro’s chest at the words. 

“Ahhh, I can go in the back,” Kimihiro said, standing again. It would be too strange, he thought. Doumeki would likely be able to see him, and he’d come to see his Watanuki, not a strange dream version sitting in the kitchen in his pajamas. But, Watanuki just waved a hand at him, and then called out to Doumeki. 

“Oi! I’m in the kitchen with myself. Please tell me you brought dashi; I have been out for a week.” 

Kimihiro could just picture the look on Shizuka’s face if he’d said something like that, but something told him that the expression on this Doumeki’s face wouldn’t be quite as entertaining. His Shizuka had certainly had an easier time of it, and he smiled quicker and more fully than this Doumeki. 

Kimihiro waited in the kitchen for Doumeki to appear, a tight feeling in his gut. He wasn’t sure what to expect from this Doumeki. He was both excited, and terrified. He hadn’t seen Doumeki in this place for, what was for Doumeki, a number of years. Last he’d seen, he was at a university learning folklore. He would be older now, though, likely having finished school. He was the same age roughly as his Shizuka. 

Doumeki entered the doorway, and raised an eyebrow at the scene. Shock for someone who knew him. 

Before Kimihiro could say anything, he was awake, the cheesecake recipe soundly in his pajama pocket. Weird. 

Kimihiro figured that if the Shopkeeper had given him a recipe, he should probably reciprocate (especially considering how well that cheesecake had turned out. Shizuka had eaten nearly half of it, and Kimihiro was glad to see that he’d regained his full appetite). Kimihiro wrote down his recipe for the lemon blueberry cake and lemon frosting that Shizuka nearly always asked for for his birthday, and shoved it in his pocket again, hoping it made it into the dream. 

Sleep came quickly, and when he opened his eyes, the paper was still there. He pulled it out, and gave it to Watanuki without preamble. 

“You should try making this, I’m sure Doumeki will like it. In payment of the recipe.” 

Watanuki puffed out his cheeks in displeasure. “Why should I make it especially for Doumeki,” he grumbled with that old attitude that made Kimihiro smile. Then Watanuki peered at the recipe. “I don’t read English well.” 

Kimihiro started, having forgotten that for so long he’d only been dreaming in Japanese. 

“Oh, right! Here,” he took the paper back. “Pen?” 

They spent a little while tracking down a pen, during which Kimihiro took a moment to be entertained at the whole bizarre situation. As much as this was frustrating and dramatic, it was funny sometimes too. He took the pen (a plain cheap ink pen - somehow, he’d been expecting a magnificent fountain pen or feather quill or something) and scrawled the translation of the ingredients and instructions in the margins.

“There. You can do the metric system yourself, I don’t remember the conversions off the top of my head.” 

Watanuki examined the recipe, as Kimihiro brushed off his tee shirt, like he’d just accomplished some great task. 

“I don’t know what season it is, but I hope you have blueberries.” 

Watanuki smiled. “I just happened to acquire some. Payment for a wish.” 

Kimihiro woke up with a laugh. This was so stupid. 

*~*~*

As had become the routine, Shizuka lay next to Kimihiro as he began dreaming, in the little whiffling breaths that had become so familiar. He turned on his side, and watched intently in the dim light, as Kimihiro’s eyes twitched and his face made minute expressions. Usually, they weren’t anything troubling. Amusement, worry, frustration, all could be read in the tiny ticks of his lips, or eyebrows. Up or down, or even pulling into a full sleepy smile. Shizuka knew that usually the dreams these days were just conversations between the two Watanuki’s. The other him was looking for answers as surely as they were here, but so far all that could be done was talk. And share recipes, apparently, as Kimihiro had woken the other day with a piece of notepaper covered with beautifully written Japanese. That cheesecake had been amazing. 

Ironically, even with Kimihiro still dreaming, it was Shizuka who was getting less and less sleep. He stayed up and watched as Kimihiro dreamed, and thought and thought and thought. He wasn’t sure why he was doing this, but he knew what he wanted. 

He wanted to follow Kimihiro into the dream. 

So, he lay there and tried, watching Kimihiro, squeezing his eyes tight, mentally _reaching_ …

Nothing happened. 

He tried to think about the images Kimihiro’s descriptions had conjured up, to think about this lonely teenage Watanuki, with his love’s face, granting wishes for eternity. He tried to imagine himself there. Shizuka even tried to hold Kimihiro’s limp hand, and physically _go_. Metaphysically. Whatever. Nothing worked. Eventually, frustration won out, and he rolled over to go to sleep. 

The next night, still without a word to Kimihiro about what he was attempting, in case he could never make it work, he tried again. Shizuka was gentler about it, grasping Kimihiro’s wrist and meditating the best he knew how. He fell asleep quicker that night, but he didn’t dream. 

How did one follow someone into their dream? Did he need to get hypnotized or what?

Then, it occurred to Shizuka that he was trying to connect with the other Watanuki, the Shopkeeper. But _he_ was there too. Another Doumeki Shizuka. And he probably had dreams as well. 

Shizuka lay in bed, and _reached_ again, searching for… well, himself. He fell asleep after a long hour of thought. But he dreamed. 

In the dream, he stood in a small apartment, decorated sparsely and laid out in the traditional way. In the middle of the room, a figure was slumbering on a mat. Futon, he supposed. Something about the shape, and breathing was familiar. 

Shizuka came closer, his feet bare and rasping over tatami mats. He stopped to stare down at himself. This Shizuka looked much the same as he did in the mirror in the mornings. In his late- twenties, with the same flop of hair on his forehead, and a vague hint of freckles. This Doumeki got less sun here in Japan than Shizuka did in California. Shizuka crouched, and examined him closer, and was unprepared when the other figure burst up. There was a flash of light. Shizuka stumbled backward to land on his rear, while Doumeki knelt a length away, with a bow (that he certainly hadn’t been holding before) drawn and aimed at him. Instead of an arrow, there was a beam of white light. 

Shizuka scrambled back, but before he could say anything, the scene in front of him vanished, and Shizuka woke up with a gasp. He sat up slowly, hoping that he’d been quiet enough to not wake Kimihiro, trying to process the suddenness of that whole thing. 

He’d done it. He’d followed Kimihiro into the dream world, and though Kimihiro hadn’t been there, he knew that Doumeki would return to Watanuki, and lead Shizuka to Kimihiro. 

*~*

Shizuka tried again the next night, and it was with more ease that he fell asleep and woke in a strange new place. He’d again been able to connect with the other Doumeki. Or, he assumed he had, since he had popped into a much fancier room, and immediately saw Doumeki blinking at him. But, a very young looking Watanuki and his Kimihiro were also there, and each one of them turned shocked eyes to his corner. 

“Uh,” Shizuka said, taken aback. 

The young Watanuki and his Doumeki were seated at a low table, food spread out between them, and with amusement on his face, Watanuki pointed a finger at Shizuka.

“I’m assuming this was your question,” he said, presumably speaking to Doumeki. 

Doumeki nodded and half shrugged. “That was it.” Doumeki must have been about to bring up the events of last night. 

Shizuka then looked at his Kimihiro, to see raw anger on his face. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Kimihiro asked, voice low. He turned to Watanuki. “What is he doing here, he isn’t supposed to be involved!” 

Watanuki shrugged, delicately. “I didn’t bring him. He figured that out on his own.” 

Kimihiro looked far more upset than Shizuka had expected. “You came on purpose-” he broke off, his anger too great. 

Shizuka lifted his hands, and tried to take a step closer, to placate maybe. 

“I’m want to help. I didn’t know it would work.” 

“It worked last night,” Doumeki said. Kimihiro pounced on that. 

“Last night? You got here last night, and then went all day and didn’t tell me?!” 

Shizuka couldn’t say anything to that, and Kimihiro had had enough. 

“You’re _not_ helping. Go home!” 

Shizuka didn’t know how, but it didn’t matter, as he blinked and then Kimihiro wasn’t there. Which was supremely odd. He must have woken up. 

“How do I wake up?” Shizuka asked Watanuki, rather desperately. There was no point to being here if Kimihiro was at home, alone and angry at him. He needed to get back there, but he didn’t know how this worked, and waking up on cue proved to be too hard for the moment. 

Watanuki and Doumeki exchanged looks, and then Watanuki cleared his throat. Doumeki was watching him with protective, narrowed eyes, and it was so strange to receive that sort of expression from a face he only saw in the mirror. 

“I don’t know,” Watanuki said. “You’re not a dreamseer, and what you’ve done is different than the same kind of dreamwalking I and your Kimihiro do. Now perhaps you can tell me, why are you here?” 

Shizuka stared at him, and then shrugged. He’s said already, and this strange otherworldly Watanuki put him off. Watanuki abruptly snorted. 

“Oh yes, this is definitely a Doumeki,” Watanuki said, giving his Doumeki a pointed look. “Also, when were you going to mention that you’d seen your double? When?” 

The other Doumeki shrugged as Shizuka had. “Last night. Just for a moment.” 

That didn’t sound right… “Kimihiro said it was usually a long time for you between visits,” Shizuka half asked, trusting Watanuki to hear the question. 

Watanuki waved a hand. “Less and less time in between lately. Before today, I saw him last… oh, a week ago, was it?” he asked Doumeki, who nodded. 

Watanuki suddenly hummed, like a thought had occurred to him. “You two… what date is it for you?” 

In unison, they both said the same date. Shizuka startled slightly at the echo, but Watanuki looked pleased, and he nodded. 

“Kimihiro has been dreamwalking up to this point. It’s random, and he has had little control, though he could learn that if he wished. But you,” he pointed at Shizuka. “You pulled on your connection to him,” he moved his finger to point at Doumeki. “Somehow, across universes, you two were able to line up your times. So, Kimihiro will likely be lining up as well.” 

Shizuka blinked at hearing it so starkly. It was true, somehow, in his dreams he was standing with his alternate self. It made him slightly dizzy to think about it. 

Watanuki folded his arms in front of his chest, with a peeved sigh. “Well, you two better damn well figure out what the hell it is you’re trying to do, because I don’t want to see two of you around all the time. One Doumeki is already annoying enough!” 

With that, Shizuka opened his eyes to their bedroom, and an empty space beside him. Shizuka remembered how angry Kimihiro had been when he woke himself up what seemed like a few minutes ago. Was he still here? Kimihiro’s side of the bed was cold to the touch. 

Cursing mentally, Shizuka stood and hurried out into the main room of the house. He was in time to see Kimihiro tugging on a sweater (Shizuka’s?) and pulling open the front door. 

“Wait-” Shizuka said, and Kimihiro half turned, body tense. 

“I’m going out,” he said, stepping outside. 

“It’s the middle of the- wait, talk to me, Kimihiro, please,” Shizuka said, stumbling forward, still not even fully awake. Kimihiro was down the steps of the porch already, and turned to look back at Shizuka. His face was taut with anger, and Shizuka watched him bite his lip. 

“Not right now,” he said, and then he was gone, stiffly tramping down the pathway in the early morning dim. 

Shizuka watched him disappear, barefoot on the porch, before he shivered and headed back inside. Then, exhausted and heartbroken, Shizuka made two cups of tea, and sat in the kitchen to wait for sunrise.


	12. Interlude 1: Now There You Go Again, You Say You Want Your Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the shop, Watanuki and Doumeki discuss their doubles from another world.

Watanuki Kimihiro, Granter of Wishes, Shopkeeper, and apprentice to the Dimensional Witch, was very frustrated. He poured those frustrations into giving the shop an all round deep clean, but the feeling remained. 

Another self. Another _Doumeki_. Someone had it out for him, and the moment Watanuki found out who, well, he would give them a piece of his mind. This was getting ridiculous. He could handle infrequent and random visits from an alternate self (who sometimes even had good ideas, and advice, and really felt like he looked on Watanuki with an understanding that was sorely lacking in his narrow social group, even if there was a bit too much pity at times). Another Doumeki though? Double the silence, double the judgmental eyebrow slants, and _double the eating_? No, no, it was simply too much! 

Watanuki scrubbed with aggravation, until his rag was too dirty was the dusty top of the refrigerator. Then, standing on his tall stool, he felt that shiver in the barrier around the shop that occurred when Doumeki - “his” Doumeki - entered the boundaries. 

Maru and Moro bounded through the halls towards the front door, while Watanuki sighed at his cleaning being interrupted. Still, Doumeki was usually good to bounce things off of, and even had occasional thoughts of his own to offer from time to time. 

Watanuki renewed his scrubbing, as the cheer from the girls grew louder, and then Doumeki entered the kitchen, yawning. Watanuki turned and enjoyed looking down on Doumeki for the moment, still on his tall stool. 

“Don’t tell me he visited last night too?” Watanuki said, putting a hand on his hip. Doumeki looked up at him, no reaction to his new height, and shook his head. 

“No. I expected him. Didn’t sleep well.” 

“Humph,” Watanuki said, and climbed down from his perch, peeling off his gloves. The top of the fridge was clean enough. “And did you bring the vinegar?” 

Watanuki had run out halfway through cleaning the grout in one of the bathrooms he hadn’t found often, and now there was a nasty line showing where it had been cleaned and where it hadn’t. 

Doumeki held up the bag, wherein Watanuki could see the jug. 

“Well, it’s too late to keep cleaning now, but at least I have it,” Watanuki complained, taking it from him and pressing the bag into Moro’s arms. She ran off, and Watanuki found himself hoping the bottle was sealed well. 

“Big cleaning day,” Doumeki asked in a not-question. Watanuki sighed in annoyance. 

“I haven’t had a customer in some time, aside from those two, and I needed something to occupy my mind besides those manga you brought - I finished them by the way. Admittedly,” Watanuki paused to examine his burning finger tips. “I may have gotten carried away.” 

“I’ll bring more tomorrow,” Doumeki said, presumably referring to the manga. “Why do you think they’re here?” 

Watanuki breathed in slower, trying to push past his annoyance to feel for those ties and impressions that came along with being the Shopkeeper. There was little to be found. 

“There must be a purpose, or they wouldn’t be here. This shop…” He took a breath, and mulled over his words, trying to convey something he could barely comprehend even after ten years. “This shop is only here for necessity. Kimihiro being here could maybe have only been a strange random happenstance - perhaps his dreamwalking powers awakening, and latching onto my presence across the multiverse? The other you following… that makes it seem much more predetermined. I have no doubt that they need to do something, or perhaps they need something from me, but … I don’t yet know what it is.” He frowned, the feeling so odd to him. “I am all but useless right now.” 

Doumeki put his hands in his pockets, watching as Watanuki began putting away the rest of the groceries Doumeki had brought. 

“They have to have a wish, right? Or at least, the other Doumeki does.” 

Watanuki paused with a head of cabbage in his hands. 

“That’s not the only way it works, though. You don’t have a wish, and yet you’re here all the time, whether I saw you to come or not,” Watanuki was still musing more than anything, and he let the idea roll around in his head for a while longer. “The other Doumeki - ah, Shizuka? That’s what Kimihiro calls him - he may have a wish. Kimihiro has a purpose here, he has been told that there’s something he must _do_. But Shizuka could just have a wish.” 

Doumeki looked extra impassive, and Watanuki pushed out another annoyed sigh. 

“Probably just followed after him, like the complete dumbass he must be. You Doumekis…” 

Doumeki leaned on the wall, letting his face ease a little, back to the impartial sounding board he took on at times. Watanuki did not understand him. 

“How do you find out a person’s wish, if they don’t know they have a wish?” 

“Generally, I like to be in the same world as the person,” Watanuki said, a bit waspishly, turning to dig more produce out of the plastic bags. “Why didn’t you use the canvas bags I told you to? I hate having so much of the plastic ones around!” 

“I’ll take a load to the trash for you,” Doumeki replied to his non-sequitur. Watanuki rolled his eyes, and continued his thought, while unloading his vegetables into the crisper drawers. 

“People are easy to read when you know what to look for. Both physically and in other ways. It’s hard to describe. It’s as if… someone has bad news. They’ve come to speak to you, and you immediately know something is wrong, because you know what to look for: downcast eyes, somber expression, heavy sighs... With wishes, I know what to look for. Many of the people that come to the shop aren’t aware they have a wish until I tell them. With a little encouragement, either they find it themselves, or I find out on my own.” 

Watanuki finished with the last package of carrots, and straightened up, turning around to face Doumeki. 

“I think he may know,” he said. “Given the right prompt. He may even tell me. He seems to speak more than you do.” 

Doumeki nodded, admitting that freely. “He is American.” 

Watanuki’s frustration eased and he gave a short laugh. “He had an accent and everything.”

“Kimihiro speaks better Japanese, definitely.” 

“His mother is from Japan, so he spoke it at home, he told me,” Watanuki said, recalling the tidbits that Kimihiro had told him about his life in California. It was so different, and he supposed that Shizuka would be different there as well. 

“What about me?” Doumeki asked, having the same thought apparently. 

Watanuki hummed. The other Doumeki Shizuka was very similar in look. A bit more freckled, a bit leaner like he ran rather than pulled a bow as exercise. Some different air about him, something less steady, but maybe that was just the emotion in his voice when he pleaded for Watanuki to send him back. 

“I don’t know much about him. He’s a professor, like you. They met years ago at that restaurant Kimihiro runs. He still eats Kimihiro’s food like the gluttons you all are.” 

Doumeki took that in with a thoughtful look, and Watanuki took a moment to ponder how Kimihiro always changed the subject when Shizuka came up. Then Doumeki spoke, still sounding tired. 

“So, those two just need to figure out what they’re wishing for.” 

Watanuki leaned back against the fridge door. 

“I suppose they do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot is going to be picking up after this. I'll try to be more frequent in posting as well! Thank you for the feedback and for reading!


	13. Like a Heartbeat Drives You Mad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kimihiro and Shizuko have to figure out why they're both here, and what they're wishing. It's more difficult than it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been getting some lovely comments, so thank you so much! I am really excited to kick off the next bit of the plot. Hold on to your hats, folks!

Kimihiro walked further than he meant to, before finally cooling down. The sun was far into mid-morning, and Kimihiro was actually warming up finally, though he was a little embarrassed at being seen walking the streets of their city in his pajamas and a stolen sweater. He’d (not completely on purpose) walked until past the time that Shizuka had to leave to go to work, and Kimihiro had work in the afternoon until closing time at the restaurant, so they wouldn’t be able to talk until late tonight. 

It was probably for the best, as Kimihiro was still supremely frustrated. 

He trudged up the steps, footsore before even starting his cooking shift today, and sighed, resting his head on the door for a moment. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the row of potted plants. His flowers... that Shizuka had been taking care of for him. 

It was just another reminder that Shizuka did these _stupid_ things because he cared, and it terrified Kimihiro to know that Shizuka would _literally_ cross dimensions just because he was concerned that Kimihiro wasn’t sleeping well. 

Kimihiro thunked his head against the door once. Lightly, he didn’t need a concussion on top of it all. It was just… Shizuka wasn’t supposed to come there. He wasn’t supposed to _see_ all that! He shouldn’t have to be in the dreams, where everything hurt, and the Shopkeeper was so sad and lonely, and the other Doumeki was heart broken. He shouldn’t have to know just what how much pain and tragedy Kimihiro was capable of inflicting on himself and others, because if the Shopkeeper could do it, then Kimihiro could too. And, there was a small voice that argued back that if he weren’t meant to come, he wouldn’t have been able to even enter the shop, but Kimihiro did not want to think about that right now. 

 

He didn’t want to think about any of it. 

“Ah, dammit,” Kimihiro muttered, as it occurred to him that Shizuka probably locked the front door, because they _always_ locked the front door, (even when they were both home, because Kimihiro’s mother had taught him basic safety in city living), and Kimihiro obviously hadn’t walked out with his keys - But, nope, Shizuka had left it open for him. That man thought of everything. 

“Arghh,” Kimihiro groaned, walking inwards, knowing that if he didn’t make a fuss of this, he’d cry. As he’d thought, Shizuka had left for work already, and there was a note on the fridge for him, in stupid half sentences like always. 

_I should have told you. Sorry about that, but not for coming. I want to help, want to keep you safe. See you tonight. Call me if you need a ride. Love you._

Kimihiro groaned, again feeling a conflicting mix of emotions. 

“He never signs these stupid things,” Kimihiro muttered, brushing the empty space after the ‘Love you’. Then, he sighed, and tossed the note on the counter, heading to the bathroom to shower and warm up fully. On second thought, perhaps he should turn it into a bath, and let his feet soak. Yeah, there was an idea. 

Later, Kimihiro left dinner in the fridge (a very lazy casserole, but hey, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and he was still mad) and then threw himself into the work day. And then, stayed after the eleven o’clock close to help clean, citing that the pans hadn’t been put back right last time so he had to make sure. And then he defended himself to Yuuko, which turned into an argument about drinking, and only then, did Kimihiro head home. Anyone who usually would have given him a ride home was gone, and he didn’t feel like calling and possibly waking Shizuka, so he biked, breathing in chilly night air for the second night in a row. 

It was after midnight by the time he arrived home, and he found his heart pounded as he eased open the door. Even after all day, Kimihiro didn’t want to have the conversation he knew they needed to have. He didn’t want to argue with Shizuka, and he certainly didn’t want to admit that he was right - that he was meant to come, and help in some way. 

The house was silent as Kimihiro entered, with the hall light left on for him. In their room, Shizuka was slumped against the headboard. He’d obviously tried to stay awake for him, but the early morning had dragged him under - Kimihiro tilted his head to read the book title that was upside down on his chest - midway through Percy Jackson. Shaking his head, Kimihiro snorted, still not allowing himself to smile. He was still mad dammit. Still, it was good that the books his brothers had sent were getting some use. 

Letting out a breath, Kimihiro went and changed, and slipped into bed, tugging Shizuka down to his pillow, and putting the book away. He didn’t wake, and Kimihiro watched him for a moment, before he turned out the lights. He wondered if Shizuka was already there without him. He wondered if they’d meet in their dreams. 

*~*~*

 

Kimihiro found himself on the porch of the shop, where the Shopkeeper was busy organizing an odd assortment of items: traditional Japanese clothing, alongside wooden whistles, European teapots, feather quills, and even more random items. Kimihiro crouched down to stroke the silk on a particularly lovely kimono, all folded up for storage. 

“Ah. As I thought,” Watanuki said, standing up from his work, and looking Kimihiro over. He looked put together and enigmatic in his robes, done up to his throat and draped exactly. Kimihiro took that to mean this was a good day. 

“As you thought what?” Kimihiro asked, standing up and brushing off his hands.

The Shopkeeper didn’t answer, and instead peered at him for a long moment. 

“And is your Shizuka with you?” he asked. 

Kimihiro frowned, and turned away, annoyed that he was apparently not going to win this argument. After all, how could Shizuka be wrong when _fate_ was on his side!? 

“If he isn’t yet, he probably will show up soon, whether I asked for the help or not.” 

Watanuki only nodded. “Again, as I thought.” 

Kimihiro huffed. “What did you think?” 

Watanuki smiled lazily at him, looking so much like Yuuko-san that Kimihiro blinked. “I thought I should organize my storeroom.” 

Kimihiro rolled his eyes, understanding a much younger Watanuki’s aggravation. 

Then, Watanuki’s chin lifted, and he turned in the direction of the yard. “They’re both here now,” he said, frowning grumpily, suddenly looking fully like himself. “I tell him to use the front door, and he never listens, the idiot.” 

Kimihiro could hear the cheers of Maru and Moro as they followed two nearly identical figures out from behind the side gate of the shop. 

“Welcome home! Welcome home!” they said, and Doumeki, this place’s Doumeki, patted one of them on the head before handing off a grocery bag. 

“Oi,” he said, while Shizuka beside him stayed quiet. 

Watanuki frowned. “I told you to use the canvas bags for groceries. I’m getting too many plastic ones!” 

Doumeki didn’t reply to that, shrugging. “They were out of leeks. And I got squid.” 

It was exactly the type of non-sequitur that Shizuka often said, and Watanuki reacted the same way. “How is squid a substitute for leeks?” 

Watanuki called the girls back with the grocery bags, and began to go through them in his pique, while Kimihiro noticed that Shizuka was looking at him. They hadn’t seen each other since last night, when Kimihiro had walked out into the night, and Kimihiro was certainly feeling the tension. 

“Hey,” Shizuka said, for once in his life breaking the silence. Kimihiro sighed, and crouched down on the porch again, in front of the spread of strange items. Shizuka breathed out, and climbed the porch steps to sit down next to him. He looked at the items that Kimihiro picked up, and examined, as if the answers to everything could be found on the bottom of a mug from a tourist town in France.

“There are some interesting items, if you want to look through them,” Kimihiro said, as if it were he that had laid them all out. “Just be careful.” 

Shizuka took the mug from his hand, and gently set it down again. 

“You’re still mad,” he stated, and Kimihiro let out a hard breath. 

“It’s pointless, but yeah, I am. Fate has apparently decreed that you have to be here, when I was doing just fine on my own. You put yourself in _danger_ for me, and I don’t want it!” 

“I couldn’t wait at home while _you_ were in danger,” Shizuka replied, and his voice wasn’t quite as flat as Kimihiro was used to. “If I wasn’t meant to be here, I wouldn’t be able to come.”

Kimihiro breathed out again. 

“This isn’t the place for this,” he said, blushing as he felt two curious eyes on him. In the yard, Doumeki and Watanuki had finished their spat over the groceries, and now were trying not to be obvious about waiting for them to wrap it up. “Ugh, c’mon.” 

They both stood, and came closer to the other two… them. Kimihiro bowed his head. 

“Sorry for intruding.” 

“Sorry,” Shizuka echoed, at least having enough sense for that.

Watanuki looked amused at that, which only made Kimihiro more embarrassed. He clapped his hands together, and gestured to them all. 

“Well, I have some theories about all this - your Shizuka’s coming has, I think, given me the last pieces I needed. But let’s all sit down for the conversation.” 

They headed inside, and Mokona brought drinks, which Kimihiro refused and Shizuka sipped at, ignoring Kimihiro’s protests. Watanuki watched them both again with an odd look on his face, as they settled on couches in a sitting room that Kimihiro hadn’t seen before, the two pairs facing each other. 

Watanuki took a sip of his sake and then set down the cup to speak. 

“It’s only been one night since we last met. As you know, previously it was unpredictable how long it would be between your visits, while only one night would pass in your world, but I think Shizuka’s presence might have… stabilized these visits here. We’re all on the same timeline now.” Watanuki paused, looking between them, before his gaze settled on Shizuka. “As for how you got here in the first place, I have a working theory, but I want to hear how you did it.” 

Shizuka blinked at him. “I tried to focus on my other self.” 

Watanuki nodded, as if that confirmed something. “Yes, pulling on your connection to this world’s Doumeki. However, that is only half of my theory.”

“Half?” Kimihiro repeated, confused. 

“See, there’s also the matter of why Shizuka could enter the shop,” Watanuki said. 

“Ahh…” Kimihiro thought hard. “I thought that was because your Shi- your Doumeki was here, that he could just… come as well?” 

“That’s one theory, but I don’t like it. It doesn’t feel right.” 

Kimihiro had a sinking feeling. “Then… it’s for necessity,” he said, looking at the ground. 

He didn’t have to look to know that Watanuki was probably nodding, and Shizuka was probably feeling smug. Then Shizuka was right, he was supposed to be here. 

Watanuki spoke again. “This shop is here for those that need it, with very few exceptions. Usually… that means the granting of wishes...” His words seemed to have a question hanging off the end of it, and Watanuki turned to Shizuka again with an aloof, but expectant look. 

Shizuka met his eyes, and lifted an eyebrow. 

“I don’t think I have a wish,” he said. Watanuki smiled at him, but Kimihiro didn’t think it was a smile he’d ever smiled. It was professional, chilly and powerful. This was the Shopkeeper at work. 

“Do we not all have wishes in our hearts?” Watanuki said softly. “Some wish harder than others, though, and it is they who find their ways to my shop by any means necessary.” 

“I came to follow him,” Shizuka said, flatly, thumbing towards Kimihiro. “If that’s a wish, then I guess it’s granted.” 

Kimihiro bristled: he was still upset that Shizuka was here at all, but said nothing. 

“Doumeki,” the Shopkeeper said, turning to his own Doumeki. “Would you consider such a thing to be a wish? Or would have more to offer than this one?” 

Doumeki, sitting opposite Shizuka, considered his double for a long moment. 

“Whatever it is that they’re here to do, I think it’s both of them that will have to do it,” he finally said, in the longest sentence Kimihiro had heard from this Doumeki. 

Watanuki nodded, and Kimihiro felt like throwing his hands in the air. He’d continually wanted to know what he was supposed to do here, but now that Shizuka had come, it all made sense? He was still had that he was here at all, but if that were the case, why had he needed to spend months alone in confusion, just watching and waiting? 

“Which brings me to my theory,” the Shopkeeper said, drawing everyone’s attention back to him. “I believe that you two have come to grant your wishes. Kimihiro, I know yours. Shizuka, I believe your wish is to help him.” 

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, then and frowned, dropping the act of the all knowing Shopkeeper. “I mean, correct me if I’m wrong. You’re wishing, not me.” 

Kimihiro knew that if he had a wish, it would be to help his other self, in whatever way he could. It had to be what he was here to do. Why else would he see so much of Watanuki’s life, see so much of his pain, if not to save him from it in some way? He wished… to give this version of himself all the happiness Kimihiro had in his life. That was his wish. 

Beside him, Shizuka lifted his chin, like he too had thought of something. Maybe he knew what his wish was, maybe he didn’t, but Kimihiro almost reached out to stop him saying anything yet. He didn’t understand wishes, he didn’t know that the price for whatever he was thinking would certainly be high. He needed to be careful. 

Watanuki seemed to read his desire to talk to Shizuka, for he looked at his Doumeki and rose. 

“I believe that we need more drinks. Tea this time,” Watanuki said, shooting a look towards the kitchens where Mokona had disappeared. 

“Snacks too,” Doumeki said, surely following a cue. Watanuki rolled his eyes. 

“Well, come with me and help then,” he said, and swept towards the door. Doumeki followed, leaving the two of them alone. Kimihiro knew he needed to take advantage of the moment, and make Shizuka understand the danger, try one more time to get him to let Kimihiro do this by himself. He was still angry, and Kimihiro wished he could tie Shizuka to a chair, (except, he could still fall asleep that way and follow him to the dream world) but he knew that apparently, this was how it was going to be.

Shizuka was involved. He’d seen this world now, and Kimihiro couldn’t keep him away if he tried, so it was best to work together now. Didn’t make Kimihiro any less annoyed. 

Shizuka turned to him, and Kimihiro tried not to frown so hard at him. It seemed to reassure Shizuka, which was ridiculous objectively, but Kimihiro tried not to dwell on their unconventional communication. 

“Okay, first of all, I’m still mad. But we need to figure out what to do. I have a wish, and I know what I want from this,” Kimihiro said, “What is it _you_ want?” 

Shizuka took a moment, looking at Kimihiro and thinking. Kimihiro resisted telling him to hurry up. 

“I want you safe. I want our lives back. I want this to stop, and I’ll help you do whatever we need to do to make that happen.”

Kimihiro had to swallow back some emotion he didn’t want to examine too closely, while being annoyed at Shizuka. He frowned and looked at the table, avoiding those brown eyes. 

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Kimihiro said, and then sighed. “But apparently fate decided I needed it anyway, without consulting the other parties involved.” 

Shizuka didn’t nod, but every line in his body looked like he agreed with fate’s decision. Kimihiro let out yet another aggravated breath. He continued on with describing the way this would go. 

“So, you’ll make the wish, and the Shopkeeper will give you the price. He… it’ll be formal.” Kimihiro turned his gaze towards the window of the room. “And I can’t help but feel like the price for my wish at least is high, if it’s even possible.” 

“What would a high price be?” Shizuka asked, confused. 

Kimihiro raised an eyebrow, and finally looked again at Shizuka. “I don’t know - do I look like I grant wishes for a living?” 

Shizuka smirked. “Technically?” he said, amusement coming into his tone for the first time in what seemed like weeks. 

Kimihiro rolled his eyes, and huffed, because of course he _did_. “You’re ridiculous.” 

The far door slid open, so they dropped their conversation, but there was a new ease between them that hadn’t been there lately. Kimihiro was still annoyed, but he was glad for the tension to dissipate a little. Watanuki entered carrying a tray with a teapot, and set of cups on it, while Doumeki trailed behind with a box of cookies in his hands. They set the food down, and Watanuki spread his hand to offer them to help themselves. Shizuka took a cookie, never one to pass up food, the blockhead. 

Once they were settled, Watanuki looked at them with a perceptive smile. 

“Alright, if you two have had a moment to think, we can proceed. You have your wishes,” Watanuki said, oddly definitive, like he could feel them. Or was listening. Either way. He turned to Shizuka first and nodded. 

Shizuka looked like he hadn’t been expecting to be addressed first, but he straightened. 

“I do.” 

“I’ll hear it,” Watanuki said. Shizuka was quiet for a moment, until he lifted his chin and spoke firmly. 

“I wish to help Kimihiro with his task. And then to go back to our normal lives.” 

Watanuki looked at them both, that otherworldly feeling coming over them. Almost as if he could sense the magic here, Kimihiro knew that what Shizuka had said was … not quite right. 

“You have the power yourself to help him; if you will or no depends on your own will, and my power has no influence over that. Especially as a Doumeki, you have no need of my magic there.” 

Shizuka looked confused slightly, perhaps having trouble following the more formal Japanese, but Watanuki continued. 

“The second piece, I can help with to an extent, though it will still be through your own efforts that it will be fulfilled. You can stop this dreamwalking each night by helping Kimihiro finish his task. Then it will stop, and you’ll both pay part of that price.” 

Kimihiro frowned. “But that’s not my wish. That’s not why I’m here.” 

Watanuki held up a hand to his protests. “It’s only a small part, more of an inevitable effect than a price.” Watanuki paused, and the room watched him. 

“Kimihiro, I know your wish. Salvation, and not for yourself. It’s a heavy desire, and as much as you can pay for will still only allow the possibility. It still will depend on the receiver's desires. Your price is three items, along with your power to dreamwalk.”

Kimihiro frowned. “Okay, so I’m… running errands?” He wondered if the items were from his world, or perhaps he had to go and find them here in the dream? Watanuki shook his head, as if in response to his thoughts. 

“No. I require three things from your person. Something physical, something emotional, and something more… spiritual, I suppose.” 

“You’ve lost me,” Kimihiro said, waving a hand. 

“Blood, sweat, and tears.” 

There was a moment where the whole room seemed to blink at the simplicity. Shizuka was frowning, and Doumeki looked blank-faced. Kimihiro just tilted his head. 

“That seems… straightforward enough,” Kimihiro decided. Tears were from emotions, sweat was physical, and blood could represent spiritual or metaphysical or something. “So… We could do this all tonight then.” 

Watanuki smiled. “There will be three tasks, over the next three days. And then, this will be over.” 

Shizuka let out a breath, but Kimihiro didn’t really like the sound of tasks, especially one having to do with getting blood from him. He’d do it though, to grant his wish. 

“So, to complete the transaction: Shizuka, you will grant your wishes yourself, for the most part. Kimihiro, in payment of your wish, you will do three tasks for me, and give up your dreamwalking power, which will effectively grant Shizuka’s second wish, which he will repay in assistance to you. Does that sound agreeable?”

“What are the tasks?” Kimihiro asked, but Watanuki held up a hand. 

“Until tomorrow.” 

And Kimihiro woke in bed, suddenly looking at a dim ceiling. Shizuka breathed in next to him, awake as well, and they both lay there for a moment, before Kimihiro rolled over into the pillow, burying his face into the fluff. There was quiet for a moment, before Shizuka spoke. 

“You don’t actually resemble him that much,” he said, randomly until Kimihiro remembered the conversation they’d had just before making the wishes. “You’re different…” 

Kimihiro frowned, looking at the blurry lump of his partner beside him. Were they? Kimihiro and the Shopkeeper had the same soul. They each had the potential, given the same circumstances, to be the other. Kimihiro understood that person implicitly, understood the choices he’d made. Kimihiro would have made them too, if he was in that place. 

“We’re not different,” Kimihiro breathed, but he didn’t know how to explain further. “I didn’t want you to see us there.” 

Shizuka reached out, and took Kimihiro’s hand, and Kimihiro couldn’t help but squeeze back. 

“They’re not us, Kimihiro,” he murmured. “I promise.” 

Kimihiro didn’t resist when Shizuka tugged his hand, gently pulling him into his arms. Angry or no, Kimihiro didn’t want to - never wanted to - lose what the two of them had. It was only more poignant after seeing those other two. He understood his other self, it disturbed him what he was capable of, and how tragic his life was, but he would do all he could to avoid becoming him. Perhaps that could be the difference.


	14. Throw Your Best Shot Right At Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kimihiro and Shizuka begin the first task. It's a lot more dangerous than they expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special shout out to blue_phoenix_tears for encouraging me!! You're awesome, and I love your comments!
> 
> The first task is all one chapter cause I didn't want to cut it, so this is a little longer than usual :)

Shizuka’s and Kimihiro’s work schedules were opposite again that Thursday. Shizuka got up for work reluctantly when his alarm went off, and relished the kiss he was able to press to Kimihiro’s forehead. Kimihiro was dozing, too warm and tired to get up (not that Shizuka blamed him) and only hummed rather than said goodbye, but it was enough. 

The day passed, and Shizuka tried to pay attention to his lectures - to not veer off into musings on metaphysics, and stay on the topic of World History. He graded papers, sat in his office for the hours he’d set up and students visited with their questions. All the while, his mind was on what tasks Kimihiro would have to complete, and on their counterparts in that other world. It still felt like a dream, save for when he was there. He wondered how it would go tonight. 

Soon enough, the end of his day arrived, and Shizuka went home to an empty house. He ate, cleaned up a little, answered some student emails, and then went and picked up Kimihiro when the time came. 

“Ah, I wonder how much we’ve spent on coffee lately…” Kimihiro said, around a yawn, as they got ready for bed. 

“Too much,” Shizuka replied, catching Kimihiro’s yawn, and then frowning at him. Kimihiro rolled his eyes, and then looked down at his pajama pants in his hands. He’d been about to pull them on. 

“Wait, should we be… I don’t know… better dressed?” he asked. “Then again, I’m not about to wear my shoes to bed.” Shizuka paused, looking down at his own loose pants. They’d always been wearing their own pajamas in the dreams, at least to their eyes. Barefoot was fine in the shop, but what if they had to go somewhere in that dream world? 

Then he shrugged. “If we need it, they’ll probably have extra shoes.” There was a joke floating there about shoe sizes, but Shizuka was too tired to grasp it. 

They kissed before closing their eyes, and then Shizuka opened them on the sidewalk outside the shop. Doumeki was there, looking mildly startled, and holding only an empty dish, rather than the bag of groceries he’d been holding every other time he’d seen him. 

“Hey,” Shizuka said to him, and Doumeki nodded, regaining his calm with a barely noticeable pause. 

“Oi,” he said and then moved towards the shop. Shizuka followed him, but then paused. One of the things that had been on his mind since yesterday here was about the wishes, and how his wish had been explained away. It made him wonder if he’d done it wrong, if Watanuki expected something different. And he’d said ‘you Doumekis’. 

He’d paused long enough that Doumeki had turned to look back at him. Shizuka figured it couldn’t hurt to ask. 

“Have you ever made a wish here?” 

Doumeki blinked at him impassively. It was uncanny, Shizuka was sure that he never looked so stone faced. 

“Not to this Shopkeeper.” 

Shizuka didn’t ask him if he had to the old Shopkeeper, the other Yuuko, or what it was. He figured he could guess well enough. He also didn’t ask if he still had a wish now. After all, given the situation here, it was likely close to his own. 

Doumeki said no more, and so they entered the shop to the now familiar cries of ‘Welcome home’ from those two twins. Doumeki gave them his dish, which they carried between them towards the back, and they moved into the sitting room they’d been in yesterday, where Watanuki was draped on one of the couches, waving away smoke from a recently put out pipe, and Kimihiro stood near him, arms folded. 

“So?” Watanuki asked impatiently, and Doumeki waved a hand. 

“The faculty said they ate every bite, and send their thanks,” Doumeki said, and Shizuka guessed he was referring to the dish he’d brought back. He dug in his pocket, and pulled out a packet of something. He handed it to Kimihiro, and Shizuka caught the kanji for tea. 

“Lovely,” Kimihiro said, and set that aside, before turning to the two dreamers, with his fingertips resting against each other. “Well, you can all sit down.” 

They settled in the same way they had previous, except this time Doumeki stayed by the door, like he was waiting for his instructions. Watanuki looked serene and expressionless, unlike his Kimihiro who was biting his lips in nerves. Shizuka stopped himself from taking his hand or patting his back, but he sat a tiny bit closer than Doumeki might have. Watanuki spoke. 

“As I said last night, I require blood, sweat, and tears from you, Kimihiro,” the Shopkeeper said. “Each of those will be given during separate tasks, one each night. And then this will be over.” 

Both him and Kimihiro let out a sigh of relief. Kimihiro was still tense though. 

“So what’s the first task?” Kimihiro asked. 

Watanuki acted like he was considered, but Shizuka got the feeling he knew very well where he would be sending them tonight. 

“Doumeki, did you ever retrieve that item I asked for last week?” 

Doumeki, also looking like he knew the question was coming, shook his head. 

“Didn’t get to it.” 

“Good. I have a new errand boy for the night,” Watanuki said, a small smile coming to his lips. 

Shizuka didn’t really like the look in his eye. 

*~*~*

Doumeki led them through the city streets, with evening falling over the buildings and roads. Shizuka couldn’t help but look around. This may not be the Japan in his world but -though he wouldn’t have known, since he’d never been there - this place was just as interesting. People were returning to their homes after work and school, children in uniforms, and adults in business attire or traditional clothing. Shizuka was glad they’d taken a moment to change from their pajamas into plain yukatas, borrowed from Watanuki and comfortable. 

Doumeki was walking ahead, leading them to a shrine. Not his family one, but another one. They hadn’t been told more than that, and Kimihiro was anxious. He displayed that by talking through the whole journey, something Shizuka was sure that both he and his double were quite used to. 

“You know, I haven’t worn a yukata in so long. I’m surprised it fits. Then again, I look like a teenager here. Shizuka, do I look like a teenager to you, or just normal? How does this perception thing work?” Kimihiro was muttering, tugging on his sleeves, and double checking the tuck of the belt. Shizuka wanted to take his hand yet again, but he was following Kimihiro’s lead on revealing their relationship to their doubles - and it seemed rude. He didn’t respond to Kimihiro’s rambles, except for the direct question. 

“You look normal to me.” 

Kimihiro nodded. “So, it’s just whoever looks at me. That’s weird. This is weird. How am I supposed to sweat right now, it’s cold. And just _what_ is he going to do with it, anyways? I can’t believe I’ve been reduced to an errand boy, did he learn nothing when he was younger, he knows how this feels, geez…” 

They’d been walking for a while as Kimihiro talked, and so there was no warning when Doumeki stopped in front of them. Shizuka grabbed the back of Kimihiro’s yukata, and tugged so he wouldn’t completely run into Doumeki, and it cut off his words. There was silence for a moment, while they all looked at where they’d stopped. 

It was a sidewalk, outside a gated wall. Inside, there was a large area with plants grown wild, and ill maintained. In the middle was the shrine, like a beacon with peeling red painted beams, and fluttering papers hanging and rustling. It was quiet, and the soft noise as Doumeki opened the gate was eerie. He stood silently on the edge of the property for a moment, before pointing at the shrine’s center. 

“This shrine was left an offering last week that wasn’t meant to go here. A payment for a wish. It just needs to be picked up. The item will be in the offering box.” 

Kimihiro looked out into the dim garden with a strange look on his face. “Alright, so I go grab this object, and at some point… sweat…? Who just leaves things at the wrong shrine?” 

Doumeki didn’t reply to him, and instead reached inside his own yukata to pull out something wrapped in cloth. Actually, no it was just folded linen on its own, in a careful rectangle. He handed it to Shizuka in silence, who took it, and examined it as Doumeki spoke. 

“You’ll need to be the one to collect the sweat, blood, and tears. You can use this for this task.” Doumeki spoke like he had lines to say, and there was something in his face that seemed unhappy. Perhaps. He only knew what his expressions felt like from the inside, after all. 

“Alright,” Shizuka said, putting the linen into the breast pocket of the yukata. 

Doumeki paused another moment, and then slipped something off his left pointer finger. It was a ring, made of what looked like wood, rubbed smooth and shiny. He handed it to Shizuka. 

“You’ll need this too.” 

Shizuka took it, mouth open to ask what for, when he felt the tingling vibration the ring emanated. Power, as if it was responding to his touch. He rolled it between his fingers, looking at the markings on it, and the smooth grain of the wood. This had been made with care, and worn religiously. 

Kimihiro was looking at it with interest, and he reached over and pressed a fingertip to the wood. 

“That’s powerful…” he said, a surety to his voice that sounded like the Shopkeeper. He blinked and it was gone. “Don’t you dare even think about losing that; something tells me we won’t be able to buy another one at the corner store.” 

Shizuka slipped it onto his left pointer finger, as Doumeki had had it. He knew somehow that was where it was meant to go. Doumeki nodded, confirming. 

“I’ll lend that to you, for the tasks.”

“What about payment?” Kimihiro asked, probably hyper aware of favors lately. Doumeki shrugged. 

“I’m not the Wishmaster. And if you succeed…” 

He didn’t finish, but seeing as they were attempting to help Watanuki, well, that was only furthering Doumeki’s work. Shizuka understood. 

With that out of the way, Kimihiro turned towards the interior of the shrine. They still hadn’t crossed the boundary lines. Shizuka took a moment to turn to Doumeki. 

“I won’t lose it,” he said, and got a nod, before Doumeki turned and began walking back the way they came without another word. Taken aback, they both watched him leave, before Kimihiro huffed. 

“Guess we’re on our own,” he said, frowning. Kimihiro stepped over the line. Shizuka was only a moment after. Nothing notable happened, but Kimihiro shivered. 

“Let’s do this quick. It smells weird here.” 

Shizuka sniffed, but he didn’t smell anything besides lavender and other herbs. Looks like the overgrown plants were a herb garden. 

They made their way further in, up the stairs and down the path, until they were close to the shrine. Kimihiro was looking around, squinting through the darkness. He was silent now, though he’d been so talkative before, and he kept sniffing. Shizuka just kept an eye on him, and on their surroundings. There was something off about this place. 

“There,” Kimihiro said suddenly, pointed at the wooden box behind a barrier in the shrine’s interior. It was as old as the building, and decorated with grungy gold edging. Slats crossed over the top, so people could throw coins in, but not reach their hand in to take anything out. Kimihiro paused and leaned over the top of it, frowning hard. “He said it would be in the box?” 

“Mhm,” Shizuka said, looking it over. Kimihiro huffed, hands going to his hips. 

“Well, how are we supposed to get anything out?” He ran a hand over the bars, and one shifted and rolled with his fingers. Kimihiro froze, and then pushed at that particular bar, and it slid out of place, leaving a hole Kimihiro could certainly fit his hand through. “Oh. That’s how.” 

Kimihiro rubbed at his nose, glancing around, before leaning back over the box. “I’m going to have to reach in and pull everything out,” he said, annoyed sounding. “Keep watch. I don’t want people thinking I’m a thief. And seriously,” he wrinkled his nose again, before reaching in and grabbing a handful of what sounded like coins. “What sort of shrine allows their grounds to get so messed up. It smells so terrible, god, this is nauseating…” 

Kimihiro knelt, and laid out a mess of copper and gold colored coins on the wooden slats below him, before he noticed Shizuka frowning at him. 

“What are you smelling? It’s fine out here.” 

Kimihiro paused, and then looked at him. 

“Wait… you’re not making fun of me, are you?” he asked. Shizuka was starting to get concerned. 

“No? All I smell is herbs.” 

Kimihiro froze, and looked up at Shizuka. No, he was looking _past_ him out into the darkening night. His face paled, and his eyes went wide, as he dropped a handful of coins in a scatter across the ground. 

*~*~*

Kimihiro tried to breathe, knowing, _knowing_ what this was. He’d seen it happen too many times to his other self. 

Surrounding them on all sides were massive, dark shapes with undefined swirling bodies and far too many eyes and mouths. They moved in hovering circles around them, and the smell, which had been testing Kimihiro’s gag reflex since they got here, worsened as they got closer. Pale arms reached out from the shapes at odd angles, and Kimihiro got the distinct impression that they were reaching for him, specifically. 

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god-” Kimihiro gasped, and then coughed, pressing fingers to his mouth to stop the bile from rising in horror and disgust. 

Shizuka couldn’t see what was around them, but he could see Kimihiro’s reaction. It was enough to make him reach out and grab Kimihiro’s upper arm to steady him. 

“What is it?” he demanded, fear making him rough. At his touch, the smell abated a bit, and Kimihiro remembered what he was here to do. 

Kimihiro pulled away, and began reaching in frantically, digging through the cold jumble of coins in the box, trying to find whatever the hell he was supposed to bring back. It looked like they were mostly yen of various amounts, but they all looked the same, how was he supposed to know which one it was, especially with those, those… _things_ breathing down his back?!

“Kimihiro?” Shizuka asked, his voice too near to a panic for Kimihiro’s comfort. 

“Just-” he coughed again, almost losing his grip on his nausea. He took a breath. “Don’t go anywhere. Stay with me. If you’re like him, stay right here and I’ll be fine,” he panted, searching and sifting through the coins on the ground, and dragging out handful after handful. 

“I’m here,” Shizuka said. Looking up, Kimihiro caught one of the many eyes of that thing, and yelped, turning back to his search. 

They were horrid, and Kimihiro panted as he searched, and tried not to look up. Then he began to hear the whispers. 

“Come to us…”

“Stay…” 

“Come stay with us…” 

Kimihiro whimpered, and scattered another handful of useless, dull coins. 

“Argh, they all look the same!” 

“Kimihiro, where?” Shizuka then said, something different in his tone, voice turned away. Kimihiro looked up at him again, and saw Shizuka standing to face the monster, though he couldn’t see it. And in his hand was a tall wooden bow. Doumeki’s ring, of course. And if Doumeki could exorcise spirits with that bow, then Shizuka probably could too. 

“Ahead!” Kimihiro yelled. “They’re- they’re all over. Keep shooting, I’ve got to find this coin!” 

Shizuka took a deep breath, and Kimihiro saw the light of an arrow appear. He couldn’t help but turn and look as Shizuka fired. The spirit shrieked and disappeared in a flash. Without pausing, Shizuka turned slightly and drew again. Kimihiro closed his eyes, and dragged his fingers through the pile of coins. One of them had to be different, but he needed to calm down. Watanuki could do this, could feel the hints of importance in the coins, out of so many. Kimihiro could do this too. 

Then, one seemed to have a _hum_ to it, sort of like the feel of the power in Doumeki’s ring. Then, a second one, and a third vibrated the same way. Kimihiro opened his eyes, and stared down at the three 5 yen coins in his palm. That was it. Somehow he knew it. There were three. He shouted in triumph, and shoved them into his pocket. 

“Shizuka, I’ve got them!” he yelled, shoveling the other coins back into the box, letting them clatter loudly. Once the last coin dropped in, Kimihiro was running, Shizuka’s wrist in his hand, back to the shop. 

He’d hoped that the boundaries of the shrine were keeping the spirits in, but no such luck. They rushed after them, a sickening putrid presence behind Kimihiro and Shizuka’s frantic run. It felt like every spirit Shizuka hadn’t shot was chasing them through the streets, and Kimihiro prayed that Shizuka could keep up - Kimihiro didn’t run often, but he’d been a sprinter in high school track, and Shizuka’s pace was always a distance eating jog. He kept a grip on his wrist either way. 

They were getting closer, coming up on the sides, and leering out of the corner of Kimihiro’s eyes. Kimihiro tried to focus on breathing, and on remembering the way to the shop, and not screaming his head off. Make it back. Don’t think about what happens if you die in a dream. Don’t think about the cold touch to the side of his neck, or against his elbows as he ran. He ran faster. 

Then, the shop. The grass was under his feet, as he and Shizuka sailed past the boundaries. The feeling of the spirits dissipated in an instant. The relief was so great, Kimihiro thought he’d cry. Then again, this was for sweat, not tears. 

Ahead of them, was the Shopkeeper, standing barefoot on the grass. Beside him, was Doumeki, holding a real bow, pulled taut with a spirit arrow. 

Kimihiro stumbled to a stop, falling to his knees. Shizuka was moments behind him. 

“Shoot them! Shoot them!” he cried out, and Doumeki obliged. Shizuka did too, from one knee, firing arrow after arrow into the cloud of spirits. Kimihiro watched from a heap on the group, panting. 

Between the two of them, the cloud of spirits vanished quickly, leaving the echoes of horrid screams. Doumeki dropped his bow arm, and Shizuka followed suit, as Kimihiro leaned forward in relief, resting his head on his forearm. It was over. God, how had this Watanuki lived with that every day? 

“Your task is completed,” said a voice, his own voice, from above him. Kimihiro looked up to see the Shopkeeper looking down at him, looking unfazed by the activity just now. Shizuka was standing close by, looking at him like he wanted to hug him, and Doumeki was impassive as always. 

“The first one, anyway,” Kimihiro muttered, pushing himself up to stand. With a still shaking hand, he reached into the pocket of his yukata and pulled out the three coins, holding them out towards the Shopkeeper. 

“Ah, you got all three of them,” he said, accepting them. “And you granted that wish. Nothing less from myself.” 

Kimihiro frowned. “Granted a wish?” 

Watanuki nodded. “Oh yes. The wish was to rid that shrine of spirits. I was going to have Doumeki investigate, but this was simpler. Two birds with one stone.” 

Kimihiro’s jaw dropped. “What the hell? I can’t believe you would just send me out there to get eaten alive!”

“You have a price, Kimihiro,” Watanuki said, “and you agreed to pay it.” 

Watanuki breathed in and out a couple times, before he let out the anger. 

“Okay, okay. Shizuka, come get this damn sweat before I dry up.” 

Shizuka, already standing close, stepped forward on cue, with the handkerchief from his pocket. He wiped the sweat from his hairline, and along his cheek, while steadying his chin with his other hand. He looked intent on the task, and in other company, Kimihiro wouldn’t have minded kissing him then -his eyes were that intense- but right now he truly hoped he wouldn’t. He kept a glare on his face, to be safe. 

Shizuka offered the handkerchief to the Shopkeeper. He took it, and let it fall through the air, disappearing before it hit the group. A bit show-offy, but it drove home the point that Kimihiro was looking at a man with far more power than he had. It didn’t stop Kimihiro from being upset at the misdirection. 

“Tell me next time if I should be afraid for me life,” he grumbled. Watanuki fixed him with a look. 

“I can only give you the tasks. If you wish for more information, you must pay for it.”

Kimihiro frowned. He knew how it worked, but it didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. Shizuka looked glowery too, in his own way, but still was polite as he slid the borrowed ring off his finger, ready to hand it back to Doumeki.

“Here,” he said, holding it out. There was gratitude in his voice, and Doumeki could probably tell. Still, Doumeki shook his head. 

“Keep it. You can give it back after you’re both done.” 

Shizuka looked down at the ring, and then pushed it back onto his finger. 

They returned to the interior of the shop to change back into their pajamas (and Kimihiro received a sparkly bandage from Maru and Moro for a scrape on his elbow he didn’t remember receiving) and then Kimihiro could feel himself waking up. 

“We’ll be back tomorrow night, I guess,” Kimihiro said. The Shopkeeper nodded. 

“I will have the next task ready.” 

Kimihiro closed his eyes and woke on the floor, blankets forgotten on the bed. He was damp with sweat, and exhausted and sore, but he was alive and whole, so he took that as a good sign. He crawled back onto the bed, jostling Shizuka as he was coming awake, and dragged the least tangled blanket over himself. 

“You alright?” Shizuka mumbled, sounding exhausted. It was five in the morning, according to the clock on Shizuka’s side, and Kimihiro sighed, knowing that Shizuka had to get up for work in an hour. It was Friday? God, he just wanted both of them to be able to sleep… 

“I feel like I just ran a marathon,” Kimihiro said into the pillow. Then he blinked clear some of the sleep haze, to see Shizuka’s blurry face. He looked tired. “You?” 

Shizuka shifted, and stretched out his right arm, clasping and unclasping his fist. “Sore,” he said, dropping the arm, and curling towards Kimihiro. “I haven’t done archery in forever…”

“You should go,” Kimihiro said, pressing his face down to the pillow in sleepy embarrassment. “I like seeing you do it.” 

Shizuka moved forward to wrap his arm around Kimihiro’s curled form. Perhaps he was thinking of the danger they’d been in that night, of how Kimihiro had drawn those spirits. Kimihiro pressed a little closer. 

“I should practice… especially if I have to still use the ring.” 

“Do you think it still works here?” Kimihiro shifted so that he could take Shizuka’s left hand, and examine the ring there. It truly was beautiful, he thought, as he brushed it softly. “It still feels… powerful.” 

Shizuka held it up, and it looked like it belonged on his finger. “It’s like it’s humming…” He entwined their fingers, and let them fall between them. 

“Mhm,” Kimihiro agreed, glad that Shizuka could feel it too. “You should try it out later.” 

“Yeah…” Shizuka said, tugging Kimihiro even closer, and kissing his hair, before settling against him. “Sleeping now. I only have an hour…” 

“Cancel class. Stay here,” Kimihiro said, eyes closing. “Your students will be thrilled.” 

“Hm.” He sounded tempted. “Maybe just the first one…” 

Kimihiro propped himself up on his elbow (not the one with the sparkly bandage) and gave him a long kiss, hoping that it might convince him to stay a bit longer. Shizuka kissed back gladly, pulling him closer. 

“Maybe two classes,” he murmured, when Kimihiro pulled away, sounding dazed. 

“Great. Turn off your alarm, and send an email or something,” Kimihiro said. 

“Right,” Shizuka said, rolling away to grab his phone and do that. Then he rolled back over and pressed as close to Kimihiro as he could get, kissing his neck. Kimihiro pushed him away. 

“Sleep,” he said, turning his back so Shizuka could spoon him. Shizuka curled up around him gladly, wrapping his arm around his waist. 

“Sleep,” Shizuka agreed. “...Then sex. And breakfast.” 

Kimihiro elbowed him, and ‘tch’ed, and Shizuka huffed against his neck, before they both let sleep - dreamless, thank god - take them again.


	15. Hold Me In This Wild, Wild World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second task begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up combined last time's chapters, so the numbering was a little wrong. There will be 23 total chapters. 
> 
> Thank you everyone who has been reading and especially those who've reviewed! You're the best!!

The next night began much the same as usual. Shizuka opened his eyes beside Kimihiro, to see Watanuki and Doumeki already waiting for them in the shop. They looked impassive and solemn, as Shizuka had come to expect of them - so unlike the grins that had been on both his and Kimihiro’s faces when their late breakfast had ended with pancake batter liberally spread on Shizuka’s cheek, and dripping off Kimihiro’s nose. After cleaning up, and doing a little work on the house and for Shizuka’s classes that he’d cancelled, they’d both returned to bed to nap and enjoy themselves, like they hadn’t done in a long time. It had been a good day. 

But, the night came, and the second task loomed. 

Watanuki stood when they appeared, and gestured towards the door to the hall.

“Please, come with me,” he said, and Shizuka and Kimihiro followed. He led them through the shop hallway, and stopped in front of a door. Kimihiro paused, and then turned to his double, looking at him narrowly. 

“Please tell me that is where you keep coats.” 

Watanuki hid a furtive smile, not in amusement at Kimihiro’s sarcasm, but almost like he was pleased with himself. 

“This is the second task. You must pass through this door, and follow the one you find there.” 

Watanuki stopped, and Kimihiro waited gracelessly in the gap of silence. 

“And? What then?” 

Watanuki hummed. “You’ll make the choices you make.” 

“What about the blood? Or is it tears this time? How will I know?” 

“You’ll know.” 

Kimihiro was unhappy at the lack of directions, yet again. “You’re just sending us through there with no idea of what’s in there? Again?” 

“Kimihiro,” Shizuka said, voice quiet. “The sooner we go…” 

Kimihiro let out a breath, and nodded. “Fine. But, I would like it noted, that I am again, not happy.” 

Shizuka didn’t think that Watanuki much cared about making Kimihiro unhappy, at least not to an extent. It’s not that he wished him ill, but Shizuka thought that it was likely very weird to meet a version of yourself that was so different. His own double, Doumeki, was not so strange as to be unrecognizable. Kimihiro and Watanuki may as well have been different people at times. And Watanuki here was so sad, so… bitter about life. The power he obviously had perhaps had made him proud, and his hardships made him cold. It was where he and Kimihiro butted heads so distinctly. 

Shaking off the musings, Shizuka watched as Kimihiro grasped the door to the closet, and opened it. A curtain of blackness hung there, and Kimihiro took a breath. 

“And I almost expected fur coats,” he said, oddly. Shizuka raised an eyebrow, and Kimihiro frowned. “C’mon, you don’t- Narnia. A magical land through a closet door? Oh nevermind!” 

Stalking forward hotly, Kimihiro made his way into the space between the doorframes, and abruptly vanished. With a jolt of alarm, Shizuka followed, and then the blackness was around him, and he could only see Kimihiro in front of him. His head swirled, and somehow he kept his feet, as it felt like the void yawned in front of them. Then, he stood on solid ground, in a normal darkness. Forest branches were dark against a dim sky, and night sounds of a strange woods came to his ears, the way the world is loud again after your ears pop. Shizuka blinked, and then caught Kimihiro’s elbow as he stumbled. 

“Woah,” he said, and stood up on his own. “You felt that, right?” 

“Mhm,” Shizuka said, letting him go, and looking around. It looked like any other forest at night. The sky was oddly bright, with stars twinkling ahead. If Shizuka had ever been interested in the stars, he might have been able to tell what constellations were up there, or if they were different than he’d grown up with, but as it was, he couldn’t tell. 

“So what do we do now?” Kimihiro said, still sounding displeased. “Just start walking?” 

“I guess.” Shizuka said. “At least it’s not snowy.” 

Kimihiro laughed once, and pointed at him. “Hah! I knew you’d get the Narnia references!” 

“I saw the movie.” 

“Liar-aaAAHH!” Kimihiro was suddenly squirming, and screaming, and Shizuka jolted forward with alarm, raising his ring to a solid bow in a much shorter time than before. Then, holding drawn a bolt of glowing light towards the ground, unsure where to aim, and half blinded by the brightness, Shizuka realized that Kimihiro wasn’t screaming in pain, but more like he was being ….tickled? 

“Ahahh aha, no stop, please, haha!” Kimihiro was writhing, bending his back and patting his chest and the arms of his jacket. 

“What is it?” Shizuka said, tightening his grip on the bow. Kimihiro finally clamped down on his own arm, and then reached into his jacket, to pull out a long… something. 

“It’s-” Kimihiro paused, looking at the thing in his hand. “I have no idea what it is?” 

Shizuka got closer, still with the bow out. It looked like a long, pale cream, fuzzy, snake. But it had ears, and beady blank eyes like a hamster. 

“Is it… kissing you?” For it was twining around Kimihiro’s palm, and pressing tiny kisses to his fingers. It even made little smacking sounds, as it nuzzled his knuckles. 

“Uh, I think…” Kimihiro frowned. “I think this is the one we were supposed to meet. Hello,” he said to the fuzzy snake. “Who are you?” 

“Well it definitely likes you,” Shizuka said, still suspicious. Kimihiro nodded, and then waved at him with his free hand. 

“Oh, put that away. He’s not going to hurt me. I can tell.” 

“You can tell.” Shizuka knew that Kimihiro was more sensitive to things here in this world; that the spirits of this world hunted him, and that he could feel the power and magic of his alternate self and the various creatures that inhabited his world. Shizuka was inclined to trust Kimihiro’s instincts. “So what is it?” 

Without a moment’s pause, nor anything supporting it, the thing leaped off Kimihiro’s hand, and floated into the air. It was definitely a spirit or magic thing then. It began twisting itself into shapes, letters in the air. Kimihiro and he saw the English words form. 

P-I-P-E F-O-X

“Pipe fox?” Kimihiro said. “Is that what you are?” 

The pipe fox nodded with half it’s body length. Then, it floated up and wrapped around Kimihiro’s neck like a scarf, before pointing it’s sharp nose forward into the brush. 

“That way?” Kimihiro asked, and it nodded again. He straightened up, and then looked at Shizuka. “Well, we have our guide.” 

Had Shizuka been a more sarcastic man, he might have given a flat cheer there. As it was, he just let the bow dissolve completely, and moved to step forward with Kimihiro. 

They walked for a long time. The sun began to rise to the side of them, casting the forest into a monochrome palette of greys and purples. Shizuka was getting tired, and worried about home. Were they sleeping in their beds still, as the morning broke here? Would Shizuka sleep through his alarm? It would be Saturday, but still. What would happen if they took too long here? 

The pipe fox was wrapped contentedly around Kimihiro’s wrist, flicking it’s nose lazily in the direction they were supposed to walk. Shizuka followed after Kimihiro as the pathway grew narrower, and brush hedged them in on both sides. The sun rise higher, but only to a point. Then the mist began to settle in, and the morning darkened. 

“The weather’s weird here,” Kimihiro muttered, and shivered. The temperature was dropping. Shizuka chafed his back briefly, trying to warm him up. The pipe fox suddenly made a chittering noise, and it’s fur fluffed up, making it look like Kimihiro was wearing a feather boa as a bracelet. Kimihiro paused, and pet the fox’s head. “What’s wrong?” 

The pipe fox was lifting off it’s lazy hold on Kimihiro’s arm, pointing energetically forwards down the path. It squeaked, and Kimihiro let it completely release and float in front of them. 

“That’s the way?” The fox nodded. Kimihiro opened his mouth, and then paused, frowning. It looked like he was listening hard. “Wait. I feel it too.” 

“Feel what?” Shizuka said, unable to get his voice any louder than a whisper. 

“I think we’re close,” was all that Kimihiro said. They moved forward, and Shizuka followed Kimihiro along the path. The brush around them narrowed, until they were actively stepping over and around logs and bushes. Kimihiro walked in a straight line, unerring and silent. Shizuka suppressed a shiver. 

Then, abruptly, a clearing presented itself. Kimihiro and Shizuka stepped out onto open ground. The mists that had twined through the forest on the way here lay blanketed across the clearing, obscuring the other side completely. The grass was green at their feet, but turned gray under the mist, and shapes seemed to move around them. Kimihiro stepped closer to Shizuka, and then startled, holding up his arm. 

The pipe fox was unraveling again, and kissed his cheek. 

“You’re leaving?” Kimihiro said, and the little thing gave him another kiss, before jabbing at the opposite end of the clearing, telling them which way to go. Then it slunk off, floating through the mists like an eel. 

“Good bye,” Kimihiro said, voice muffled by the fog. Shizuka felt his lips quirk, and Kimihiro frowned at him. “What? He was cute!”

“Maybe we should get a dog,” Shizuka teased, and Kimihiro sniffed. 

“Please, I don’t want a dog.” 

“A ferret then. You can name it Pipes.” 

Kimihiro snorted, and shoved at him, before the atmosphere seemed to eat up their attempts at light heartedness. Kimihiro looked down the clearing, at the fog bank and the unknown destination, and shivered. 

“What is this place?” he murmured, and Shizuka put his hand on his back. 

“What do you feel?” 

Kimihiro was quiet for a long moment, before he spoke with hesitation. “Something… is dying.” Then, Kimihiro shook himself, and stepped forward. Shizuka hurried to keep pace with him. The mist swallowed them. 

After a handful of steps, a shape began to resolve itself in front of them. It was a tree, one of the largest Shizuka had ever seen. The branches spread out above, tall and stately, but it was clear that something was wrong with it. The foliage was brown, where all the rest of the trees were a healthy green, with deciduous leaves clinging to the brittle branches. The bark was peeling, and spotted with white. 

Kimihiro looked sick to see it, and Shizuka wondered what he was feeling. 

“Are you alright?” 

Kimihiro looked at him with his eyes glimmering. 

“It’s in pain. I don’t know how I can tell, but I can.” 

“What are we supposed to do?” 

“Well you _have_ come a distance, haven’t you?” 

The voice took them by surprise. Shizuka and Kimihiro looked towards the tree, peering under the great bows. The roots beneath were gnarled, and some arches and loops were as tall as Shizuka. Underneath, crouching in a hollow, was a… well, it might have been a woman. She was hunched, and weathered, with gray hair that flew out in tufts from her elaborate but unkempt buns. Her kimono was tattered, the silk stained with mud and burrs. She was smiling. 

“From the land of California, am I right? And not the one in this dimension either.” 

Kimihiro and stopped at being addressed, and stared at the woman. 

“You’re right,” he agreed, sounding wary. Her grin broadened, her lips stretching and cracking unpleasantly. From closer, Shizuka could clearly see that half her wizened appearance wasn’t age, but illness. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her hands trembled. She was weak and frail, cradled in the curve of a root. 

She spoke again, only to Kimihiro. “You are extraordinarily like the Shopkeeper. Yet, different as well,” she said, and her voice took on a mocking tone. “Older, wiser, and much more open to _love_.” 

Kimihiro frowned, standing stiffly. “We aren’t here for you to analyze my personality.” 

With a hand that shook like the leaves above her, she reached into her robes, and retrieved a small knife. It’s handle was clean clay, white, with red designs on it, while the blade was silver and shiny. It looked out of place in her hands, and she held it flat across her open palms. 

“You’re here for many purposes.” She smiled again, and fixed Kimihiro with a look that sent shivers down Shizuka’s spine, and had him itching to reform the bow again. The woman continued. “Blood, yes. But you must hear what I say. Hear my story, before I fall to the decay you see before you.” 

Shizuka glanced at Kimihiro, who looked confused as he felt, before he nodded. 

“Tell us,” Kimihiro said, his voice firm.


	16. Disunity Tries to Pit One of Us Against the Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wild woman tells her story, and then the world gets weird.

Kimihiro watched as the woman took a breath. It sounded difficult. She was truly suffering, as was this whole clearing. The feeling here was pervasive, and immense, cloying like rotten fruit. He recognized the miasma of death, though Kimihiro hadn’t had much cause to smell it in his life. This tree was powerful, that it’s death should be so shattering for this world, for this woman. He would listen to her story. Perhaps that was why they were here, perhaps Watanuki was using them to grant another wish, like the last time. 

Slowly, painfully, the woman stood, placing her hand on the trunk of the tree. Her knotted knuckles almost matched the rough bark. 

“I am called the Guardian. I have existed beside this Tree for many ages of this world, far longer than your world, your little California, have existed. I have always been here to care for the Tree, and tend to its needs.” 

Above them, the branches rustled like the Tree was listening. Kimihiro felt Shizuka take a step closer to him. 

“Countless people have made pilgrimages here to seek knowledge and wisdom. They come to meditate, hear my stories and grow alongside nature.” 

The Guardian’s voice grew soft and sadder than Kimihiro had ever heard someone sound. 

“But now, less and less arrive. Their lives are too busy to think of pilgrimages. The people look to their own hearts, and have not the patience to listen to the Tree. Without them, the Tree began to shrivel up.” 

She took a shuddering breath. “Soon, very soon, the Tree will die, and I will be alone for the rest of my long life.” 

Kimihiro frowned, her resignation tugging at his heart. 

“There must be something to be done,” Kimihiro said. A note of bitterness came into her face.

“Don’t pity me. All bonds are weak in the face of time. All things must end.” 

Kimihiro took a small step back, her anger quieting him for now. Frail or no, this woman was still far more powerful than him. 

“Growth decays, vitality weakens, and what was once a rich life becomes dull and colorless.” 

Kimihiro watched as the Guardian straightened, and the Tree behind her seemed to shift. The fog around the clearing seemed to churn, rushing the edges of the Tree’s large roots, and stealing the color from the grass, and even Kimihiro’s skin. Kimihiro turned, and saw Shizuka, only a foot away, look washed out and small in the unnatural fog, like there was enough distance between them that his form and color muddied. Kimihiro reached out, but then he noticed the sky. 

“Look,” he said, a hushed choke, too loud in the strange fog. The sun was setting, the gray world growing darker and more monotone, until with the barest flash of orange, twilight set in. “Wasn’t it just sunrise?” 

Shizuka was frowning, but his face was getting blurrier. Kimihiro suddenly didn’t think he would be able to hear him if he spoke. Hadn’t he been right next to him? Kimihiro took a step sideways, and reached out, but it was like reaching towards a fun house mirror. He couldn’t be sure which direction Shizuka actually was, and though the other man was also reaching, it still took some tries for their fingers to connect. Once Kimihiro found Shizuka’s palm, he gripped it tightly, and he still had to blink to see Shizuka clearly, though he could feel him standing shoulder to shoulder. 

The Guardian was soon the only solid shape in Kimihiro’s vision. Her and the Tree, twisting up, gray and hulking, behind her. She wasn’t smiling, but Kimihiro got the feeling she was pleased with his confusion. 

“What are you doing?” Kimihiro asked, trying to make his voice strong. 

“I’m showing you the way it is,” she said, and darkness grew until he couldn’t see anything in front of him. Shizuka’s hand was still warm in his grip… or was it? Suddenly, it felt like he wasn’t holding anything at all. 

“Shizuka!” Kimihiro said, alarmed. Muffled, he heard a call, but it couldn’t have come from directly next to him, it was far too distant. His hand was empty. “Shizuka!” 

“Humans have a weakness for connections. They believe that the bonds made in a lifespan will last forever, but this is untrue. They will always unravel, and each of us will die alone.”

The Guardian’s voice came out of the darkness, and the moon rose above the clearing, pale and cold. Kimihiro could only see the woman’s twisted shape, and the Tree echoing that, standing behind her. Were his eyes playing tricks, or were the roots beginning to move? 

“That’s not true,” Kimihiro said, thinking of Shizuka, of his mother and father, and half brothers, and Yuuko, Himawari and friends at the restaurant. His bonds to them weren’t going to unravel. She only laughed; twisted and bitter. 

“You have too much pride, child. You’ve spent so many years trying to fill that space inside you, that gap where another person seems to fit. But that is a lie told by all of humankind trying to find a spark of life in their meaningless existence. It’s _false!_ ” Her voice rose, and with it, the fog and uncanny feelings of dread and loneliness. The dying Tree was spreading its illness. Kimihiro looked around again for Shizuka, sure he had to be standing only a few feet away, but in the darkness of the unnatural night, he couldn’t glimpse him. 

“You and I will both die alone, this I prophesy. Everyone you love will fade away.” 

“You don’t know anything about my future!” Kimihiro spat. “You have no place to talk about me as if you know me.” 

“Oh don’t I?” she asked, and those roots that twisted out of the corner of his eye were definitely writhing now. They reached forward for him, spurred on by her words. “Your parents, so far away since you were a child, will die someday soon. Your brothers will fall out of your life. Your friends will grow older and busier. And even your bonds of love to this one-” 

The fog parted, and Kimihiro saw clearly the Guardian, the twisting roots, and how they were wrapped around a struggling Shizuka. He was bound from knee to shoulder, with a knotted branch across his mouth, keeping him quiet. 

“Shizuka!” Kimihiro jolted forward, reaching out, but where he reached was only ever empty space. “Let him go!” 

The Guardian watched him, impassive. “Your love for each other, any promises you make, will fade and perish in time. You’ll drive him away. Or you’ll leave him yourself, in an attempt to ease the pain.” 

Kimihiro’s fists clenched, and he shook his head. There was too large a part of Kimihiro (the part that he saw echoed and magnified in Watanuki) that believed her. He could drive people away, he would make the decision to break up rather than be broken up with, because it hurt less. He was selfish, and had a temper, and it was only because Shizuka had the patience of a saint that they’d gotten this far. He could get tired of it, easy. Shizuka could leave. And even if they made it to the end of their lives, one would die before the other. 

“Your Shopkeeper knows this is true, though even he tries to resist it. He keeps a vain hope in that archer, the unlucky girl, in his few friends who are left. They will leave him in time, and there is nothing he or you can do about it.” 

Kimihiro had heard Watanuki speak those words weeks ago, when he was young, cradling a dead cat. _I’ll die like this too. Alone_. It had been that moment, when Kimihiro was still confused and sleep deprived, that he’d decided to help him. Kimihiro would give so much to help this world’s Watanuki. 

“Don’t talk about him like that. I’m trying to help him.” 

“You are attempting. You wanted to take his place, didn’t you? You see, your own connections are not so strong. You were prepared to give up your life in California, with your archer, to _help_ the proud Shopkeeper.” 

Kimihiro’s mouth dropped open. He hadn’t mentioned that thought to anyone. It would never work, and Watanuki would have never accepted it anyway. But in front of him, Shizuka’s eyes widened, in hurt and rising anger. 

“No, I-, it wouldn’t work. I wouldn’t do that.” 

The Guardian looked at him, and behind her, the sun began to rise. How long had they been there? The Tree’s black roots were cracking; diseased and spotted with grey. The roots holding Shizuka bound began to crumble. He stumbled forward to his knees in a spray of dust and rot, coughing. Kimihiro wanted to run to him, but the woman’s eyes were holding him. 

“Mark me, boy,” she said, “It will be as I say.” Kimihiro grit his teeth. 

“I didn’t come here for this,” he growled, reassured by Shizuka’s breaths evening out. “I came to complete a task.” 

She nodded. “Blood spilled here will restore a measure of life to the Tree. A life for a life. Tell the Shopkeeper that my wish is granted.” 

Quick as a snake, she darted forward and snatched Kimihiro’s wrist. He jerked, but the knife was in her fist before he could pull away, white and dangerous. Before she could move further, a rough voice sounded. 

“Don’t move!” It was Shizuka, his voice terrifying, and somehow full of power. Where Shizuka had been recovering, now he stood with the bow drawn. On the ghostly string was a beam of light, and behind it, Shizuka’s scowl was cast in a hard brightness. “Don’t touch him!” 

The Guardian sneered. “This one would have left you, and everything you’ve built together. He would have taken the Shopkeeper’s place, trapped in that house for a millennia, waiting for a vain wish that wasn’t even his. Is this the man that you would die for?” 

There was a drawn out, twisting moment, where Kimihiro wasn’t sure what Shizuka would say. Then. 

“In every lifetime.” Shizuka’s face was pained, but his arrow didn’t waver, aimed straight for the woman’s heart. Kimihiro tried not to move, though he was shaking in sadness, disbelief, and rage. The Guardian had crossed too many lines tonight, and Shizuka was going to cross another for his sake. Shizuka was going to kill her. Her grip was like wire around his wrist, and her knife was far too sharp looking, but they needed her to complete this task. 

“Shizuka,” he choked. “Don’t-” 

The Guardian was watching Shizuka, looking unconcerned. 

“That arrow is meant for spirits. It won’t hurt me.”

Shizuka took a hard breath, and turned his aim to the trunk of the tree. The woman paled. 

“Step away from him,” Shizuka said, his voice deadly soft. Her grip tightened, and then, released one finger at a time. The Guardian didn’t drop the knife, but she stared at Shizuka, as she freed Kimihiro to take a step back and rub his wrist. 

“You came to give up your blood, boy. Why not give a little more?” she asked, and Kimihiro coughed a laugh. 

“I’m not done yet,” he said, and she tossed the knife to the ground at Shizuka’s feet. 

“Take it. Unscrew the handle, and fill the jar with blood. Give that to your precious Shopkeeper, for all the good it will do him.” 

Bitterly, she turned her back to the two of them, and the fog and the dimming light again hid her figure. This time, Kimihiro could still see Shizuka as he loosed the bow, letting it dangle from his hands for a moment, before it faded away like the woman had in the fog, then he scooped up the knife, and moved towards him. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice flat. Kimihiro nodded, breathing heavily, the shock giving way to directionless anger. He tried to push the tangle of emotions down. 

“You need- you need to cut my hand or something. We need the blood.” 

Shizuka’s jaw tightened, and hesitated for a long moment, before he flipped the knife upside down, and after a little searching, untwisted the bottom part of the handle. Inside was a tiny jar. It could probably only fit a tablespoon or two, but Kimihiro assumed it would be enough. He extended his hand, and turned his face away. 

“Do it.” 

He heard Shizuka exhale, and then a hand was roughly turning his arm over. A sharp pain lanced across the top of his forearm, and Kimihiro gasped, as he felt blood begin to drip. He looked down and saw a sick looking Shizuka, glaring as he concentrated on holding the edge of the jar against the point of a shallow cut. The knife in Shizuka’s other hand had a thin film of red on the edge. Kimihiro gulped down a rush of dizziness. 

“How’d you know to cut there?” Kimihiro gasped. 

Shizuka half shrugged. “I read it in a book somewhere…” he said, sounding breathless. Kimihiro was sure that he’d appreciate having his hand in working order once he woke and needed to go back to the restaurant. 

Once the jar filled enough, Shizuka took off his sweatshirt, and wrapped it around Kimihiro’s arm with the sleeves in a tight knot. Kimihiro let him tie it up, and then leaned on him. Exhaustion and the shock of the woman’s words, the anger that still buzzed under his skin, and the cut had him weak. Shizuka supported him as they left the clearing where the woman still Guarded the Tree as quick as they could. 

Outside the edge of the clearing, the small pipe fox appeared again, curving itself under Kimihiro’s chin, and rubbing its soft fur against his cheek. Kimihiro was glad to see him. With a small squeak, he turned his nose to the left, and pointed at a thicket on the side of the path. If Kimihiro looked closely, he could see light from far back in the tangled branches, and if he looked even further, he saw smooth wood. It was their way to the shop.


	17. Won't You Exorcise My Mind?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shizuka has a hard time processing the danger they were in, the things the woman said, and the way they seem to be getting used by Watanuki.

They returned to the shop with shaky and tense, blinking back the sudden (though dim) light of the shop’s hall, after the dark and foggy forest. Kimihiro was glad to see it was the same day they’d left - though the sun had set and risen many times while they were there- as Watanuki was wearing the same outfit of silk in a purple gradient. In fact, it looked like only minutes had passed, if that. Doumeki was leaning against a beam on the opposite wall, and Kimihiro was still smoking his pipe. He decided to stop thinking about time. 

He and Shizuka clambered through the door, and shut it firmly behind them. The pipe fox had come with them, and it flew from Kimihiro’s shoulder, to Watanuki’s as soon as it saw him. It squeaked, and pressed itself to the side of Watanuki’s jaw, happily accepting his pats. 

“Thank you, Mogetsu,” Watanuki said, naming the creature for them. “You’ve completed the task then,” he said to them then. Kimihiro huffed. 

“We got the blood, if that’s what you mean,” he said, gesturing to the sweatshirt wrapped around his arm. “We also almost got killed by a bitter old woman and a crazy tree! I’m sure that was part of the plan too!” 

To Kimihiro’s gratification, Watanuki’s eyebrow raised the tiniest bit. 

“Killed?” he said, and then turned to Mogetsu, listening to something no one else could hear. “The Guardian should not have tried to extract her wish from you, that wasn’t what you were there for.” 

Kimihiro’s anger deflated, and he just felt tired. “Well! Okay, then, that’s good…” Dammit, he was getting dizzy. He wanted to lean on Shizuka, but he forced himself to stay upright. Still, Shizuka was aware enough to catch his elbow. Watanuki eyed him. 

“You need treatment,” he said. “But first, where is the bottle?” 

Shizuka stepped forward slightly, still holding Kimihiro’s arm. Kimihiro could see his face now, and it was stormy. He held out the knife, grip first, with the blade only partially cleaned, and the bottle of blood screwed back into the handle. 

“Here,” Shizuka said, intentionally not explaining where the blood was. Watanuki knew anyway, but Kimihiro was sure he noticed the subtle slight. After all, he had experience with his own Doumeki. Watanuki untwisted the handle, and slid out the small bottle. He upcapped it, and poured the viscous liquid out into the air. Like the handkerchief with his sweat, it vanished before it met the ground. 

Watanuki nodded, and capped the bottle, replacing all the pieces of the knife, before handing it to Doumeki. 

“That shall need to be returned. My dealings with that Guardian are not complete.” 

Doumeki nodded, and began carrying it off, Maru and Moro skipping up to him from the front of the house to accompany him. Watanuki watched him go, and then turned to Kimihiro and Shizuka. 

“Your arm needs attending,” he said, and Kimihiro hesitated. Where did extra medical treatment fall in their balance? He wasn’t good at it, but he was beginning to see how the things around Watanuki fell on one side or another on a great tilting scales. He was so trapped by it, and it made Kimihiro hesitant to even accept a little help. Watanuki seemed to read his mind, glancing back. “Not to worry, you can bring me another recipe to pay it back. It’s a little wound after all. Shizuka did well.” 

Kimihiro glanced at Shizuka, he was still glowering, before he followed Watanuki back to the sitting room. Mokona was there, with a bottle of alcohol (as was usual) and a tray laid with cotton balls, bandaging, and other first aid items. 

“Please sit,” Watanuki said, snatching the bottle from Mokona. “And _you’re_ not getting any of this until you attend to our guests.” 

Mokona pouted. “Watanuki’s so mean!” he said, but still he bounced off to the door and vanished. Watanuki sighed, and put the bottle down, before he sat down on the other side of the small table. Kimihiro sat directly in front of him. Shizuka had elected to stand. Kimihiro looked at him for a moment, and he could tell that he was near vibrating with anger. It was rare to see him so worked up, and Kimihiro thought he perhaps should be angry too, but he was too tired. His arm was throbbing now, in time with his heart beat, and he just didn’t have the energy. 

And now Shizuka was hovering, like he always did, and it grated on Kimihiro’s last few nerves. Not wanting to snap, Kimihiro dragged his eyes to Watanuki across from him. 

“Could you…” he wiggled his fingers in Shizuka’s direction. “For me, please?” 

The Shopkeeper nodded, and he took a step towards Shizuka, putting his hand on his chest. He wasn’t there anymore, a half cut off protest hanging in the air. Kimihiro sighed, knowing he’d hear about that later. Watanuki turned back to him, and took a seat on the ground across from where Kimihiro knelt, picking up the medical supplies. His eyebrow was raised, and Kimihiro groaned, and rubbed his face with his uninjured hand. 

“I presume you wanted to talk to me,” Watanuki said, when the silence stretched. “Are you angry?” 

“Yes. No? I don’t know. She said awful things, and literally tried to kill me, but also…” Kimihiro paused, and then winced as Watanuki eased the fabric of the sweatshirt back from the cut. “I’m beginning to understand why it has to be this way.” 

“Mm,” Watanuki said, noncommittal. He dabbed stinging liquid to his cut. 

“I was afraid when Shizuka took the sweat. And I was angry when he cut me for the blood. What emotion for the tears, then? Sadness, I suppose.” 

Watanuki didn’t reply, but his eyes were knowing, and Kimihiro felt like he’d gotten it right. 

“I guess I’m thinking like you.” 

“Does that bother you?” 

Kimihiro pondered. “We are the same person, after all. Your happiness means a lot to me.” 

Watanuki’s face was bent down over Kimihiro’s arm, delicately cleaning the wound until no more blood ran from it. It stung, but not too bad. 

“And what if your wish cannot be granted?” 

Kimihiro sighed. “My wish is for you to have a chance. If you decide not to take it… well, then that’s up to you.” 

Watanuki gave the barest nod, and then reached for a roll of bandages. Kimihiro could fell that he was waking up, just as he tied the tiny knot. 

“Until tomorrow,” Watanuki said in goodbye, but Kimihiro didn’t have enough time to respond before he was opening his eyes to see his familiar ceiling. Shizuka was next to him, sitting up with his arms folded on top of his knees. He was tense, just as Kimihiro expected. Kimihiro sighed, and put his hand over his eyes. 

“Can we not do this now?” Kimihiro asked, and unfortunately it just made Shizuka bristle more. He didn’t accuse him of leaving him behind, or mention what the Guardian had said. Instead he flatly spoke. 

“How’s your arm.” It was barely a question. Kimihiro brushed the smooth, skillful bandaging that had followed him from the dreamworld. 

“Fine.” 

Nothing else was said, though, and eventually Kimihiro relaxed back into a dreamless sleep. 

*~*~*~*

Shizuka woke before Kimihiro, having only vaguely dozed the rest of the night anyway, and immediately got up for a run. His mind was still whirling from the events of the dream last night, and the adrenalin hadn’t gotten the chance to work itself out before he was zapped home to bed. It was only the awareness that Kimihiro needed his rest that let Shizuka keep quiet as Kimihiro relaxed into a real sleep. His arm, expertly wrapped, rose and fell gently on top of the covers. 

Yet again, Kimihiro had been put in danger by this stupid quest, and there had been little that Shizuka was able to do about it. Not only that, but that woman had deliberately been saying things to get Kimihiro’s, and by extension, his, ire up, and Shizuka still hadn’t eased the knot of anger in his chest. It pulsed with every beat of his shoes against the sidewalk. He couldn’t stop repeating her words about Kimihiro wanting to stay in the Shopkeeper’s place… he knew that it wasn’t true, or if it was, it wasn’t something that Kimihiro had truly considered, but it still hurt to think that Kimihiro might be willing to give up on the life they’d built together, to save someone he’d met in a dream. It didn’t help that Kimihiro had sent him away without a word last night, and then refused to say anything about it. 

Shizuka let out a sigh, and pushed hard against his growing shortness of breath. He was probably running too long on his current level of fatigue, but the alternative was to simmer in his anger… that admittedly wasn’t going away very well anyway. Giving it up, Shizuka stumbled to a stop, and planted his hands on his knees, panting. He realized that the sun was higher than he expected it to be. How long had he been running? 

“-ey, Shizuka!” called a voice, and Shizuka looked up past black dots to focus on Himawari, standing up the sidewalk from him. Where had she come from? Had he run all the way to her neighborhood? She smiled, and waved, but then frowned. 

“Hey, are you alright? You look pale,” she said, and Shizuka swallowed a gasp, and wiped his brow. 

“M’fine. Ran too far.” 

Himawari giggled uncertainly. “I can tell. I’ve never seen you running out this way, not since you two moved.” 

Shizuka didn’t respond, still breathing through his open mouth. Himawari had her small dog on a leash, he noticed, and the little guy was sniffing at his socks. 

“Do you want to come in for some water?” she asked then, drawing his attention back to her. “It’s a little warm out.” 

Shizuka would have liked nothing more, and so he nodded gratefully, and let her lead the way to her apartment. She still lived on the same floor where Watanuki had lived when he met him, and Shizuka’s feet knew the way without input from his brain. He was finally catching his breath, and noticing how much he likely smelled, when Himawari sat him down in her kitchen, and set a glass of cold water down in front of him. He gulped half of it without stopping, and then pressed it against his flushed forehead for a moment. 

“Thank you,” he said, after a moment, and Himawari hummed in acknowledgement, rummaging around in the fridge. 

“Do you want a sandwich?” she asked, and he realized he hadn’t even grabbed a granola bar on his way out the door. Or his phone. Dammit, Kimihiro was probably concerned by now. 

“Please,” Shizuka said to the food. “And can I use your phone?” 

Himawari smiled, and pushed her phone in its pink glittery case across the table, before getting out a plate and two slices of bread. 

“I did text him that I found you,” she said, from inside the fridge, as Shizuka unlocked her screen and opened the dialer. “But, I’m sure he’d appreciate the news from you.” 

Sure enough, a text notification rolled across the top of the screen. 

‘What was that idiot doing runn…’ was all Shizuka read. He didn’t open the text, but instead stood. 

“I’m going to call him,” Himawari nodded, and Shizuka, feeling a surge of gratitude that she was his friend, put a hand on her shoulder, before he took her phone to the front room. He didn’t want to get the couch all sweaty, so he sank to sit on the floor, since his muscles were trembling from his run. 

He hit send, and braced himself. 

It rang once, and then clicked. Kimihiro’s voice came on. 

“Oh my god, Shizuka,” he said flatly, and Shizuka sighed. 

“I’m fine.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” Kimihiro protested. “I’m coming to get you.” 

“I can-” 

“You’re _not_ running home from there.” Kimihiro hung up, and Shizuka winced. He turned around, and saw Himawari holding a plate and looking sheepish. 

“Your sandwich is ready,” she said. Shizuka sighed again (he’d been doing a lot of that this morning) and traded the phone for the plate, with the absolutely delicious looking sandwich on it. 

“Thank you,” he said, both for the call and the food. “I appreciate it.” 

Himawari smiled, and hummed. Then, he face grew a little dimmer. “So… how is he doing? He’s almost done with his week off, isn’t he? Did it help at all to rest?” 

Shizuka pulled in a breath, holding the plated sandwich in front of his chest tightly. 

“He’s… I think he’ll be okay. A few more days would be good probably. But we’re going to get through it.” 

“Then why the…” Himawari waved her hand between them, gesturing to his sweaty work out clothes. “You were upset?” 

“Bad dream,” Shizuka said, roughly the truth. It still felt false, and Himawari deserved better, but how could he tell her? Maybe she’d believe… maybe after it was all over. 

Himawari looked at him for another moment, before waving her hands at the sandwich he was holding. “Oh, well sit down at eat at least, before Kimihiro gets here.” Shizuka did so, gladly taking a bite of salami and rye. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kimihiro had been pulled out of a blank sleep to Shizuka fairly bolting out of bed as soon as the sun was somewhat close to rising. Kimihiro recognized this pattern as him needing a run to clear his head, and relaxed again, figuring that was more than fair, and perhaps the extra sleep would help _Kimihiro_ clear his own head so that they wouldn’t blow up at each other when they finally talked about the insanity that was last night. 

It had been intense, and Kimihiro thought he was still angry somewhere in there, but mostly he was just frustrated at what these tasks were turning out to be. The first one was terrifying, but he’d made it through alright, but this second one had poked and prodded at each of his buttons, tearing at old wounds, and insecurities. Shizuka getting so mad didn’t help, even though Kimihiro was relatively sure that he wasn’t mad at _him_. Except for maybe sending him away, and not telling him the truth about thinking about switching with the Shopkeeper… 

Well, perhaps Shizuka did have reason to be mad at him. Regardless, Kimihiro wasn’t doing so well at relaxing, so he got up and began cooking, figuring that would at least calm him a little. But, of course the stack of pancakes grew cold as an hour came and went, and then another half, and Kimihiro’s frustration _at_ Shizuka grew. Shizuka usually only ran for an hour at the very most, and he should have turned up sweaty and gross by now. 

Kimihiro tried his phone, but of course it rang from the bedroom, so he was left to imagine the worst, and then it turn get even angrier because Shizuka was making him worry, on top of everything else! It was nearing two hours that he’d been gone, and the kitchen was cleaner than it had been in two months, when Kimihiro’s phone pinged. Kimihiro dove for it, tearing off his cleaning gloves to swipe the screen open. 

It was Himawari, but she had news. Kimihiro leaned on the counter in relief. 

_Hi Kimihiro! I found Shizuka running out by my place, and convinced him to come in for some water. I thought I should let you know. :) Um, is everything okay? :/_

Kimihiro let out a huge breath, and slumped over, before straightening up to type a reply. 

_What is that idiot doing running all the way out there! Sigh, thank you for finding the dumbass._

He paused before sending, considering what to tell Himawari about why Shizuka was upset. 

_Someone said some things to us last night, made us both a little testy_

She’d probably assume someone was being homophobic, and not ask details. It wasn’t that exactly, but someone did attack their relationship. Himawari didn’t text back, but soon after he hit send, the phone lit up with her name. He took a chance and guessed that it was Shizuka on the other end, and not Himawari. 

“Oh my god, Shizuka.” 

Shizuka’s excuses were dumb, and he still sounded breathless, so Kimihiro promised to bring the car and come get him, because honestly! Kimihiro hung up the phone with the same lack of fanfare that he’d answered it with, and went to find his shoes. 

He parked in Himawari’s visitor’s parking spot, only a few down from his old parking spot, and got out, running his hands through his hair. Today was just shaping up to be aggravating as hell, wasn’t it? Kimihiro sighed, and tried not to think about it, tramping up the stairs. 

Himawari pulled open the door, and beamed. 

“Hi Kimihiro! You’re looking well,” she said, and Kimihiro couldn’t help but smile a little, welcoming her hug. He knew she meant that he now looked better than death warmed over, which was the look he’d been sporting lately. The regular tasks had actually meant he’d been getting _more_ sleep, and he was really glad there was an end point ahead, but he pushed away the thoughts about his wish and what Watanuki might do afterwards. 

“Hey Himawari,” he said, happy to see her. “Thanks for finding the big lug.” 

Himawari’s smile deepened, and she stepped back to let him him. 

“He looked a little lost in thought, so…” 

“He’s lost _something_ …” Kimihiro muttered, following her into the apartment. The set up was so like his and Shizuka’s old place, and was familiar in its own right. Kimihiro remembered late night ice cream parties and movie nights when they were both single and lonely. Himawari’s dog Tampano ran up to him, and nosed at his shin until Kimihiro bent down and pet him. 

“He’s back through here, finishing his sandwich,” Himawari said, leading him to the kitchen. Kimihiro felt a twinge of relief that he was eating, it was a good sign. Shizuka looking sheepish, sitting at the counter with his plate of crumbs in front of him, raised a hand and waved. 

“Yeah, hi to you too,” Kimihiro said, annoyed. But, Shizuka looked fine, if still sweaty and damp. He probably stank. 

“Sorry for worrying you,” Shizuka said, getting up. Kimihiro rolled his eyes slightly. “I lost track of time.” 

“Argh, okay, whatever. Ready to go?” Kimihiro said. Shizuka nodded, and then looked at Himawari. 

“Thank you,” he said again, and Himawari smiled. Boyfriend thus collected, they headed to the car. Kimihiro took the driver’s seat, because Shizuka looked tired, and then they were on their way home. Kimihiro drummed his fingers on the wheel. The quiet stretched, and then snapped.

“You’re not as young as you used to be, you know? What about your heart? You can’t just run for miles! And you didn’t take water, or your phone! Are you an idiot?” 

“I didn’t mean to,” Shizuka protested, but Kimihiro spoke over him. 

“You weren’t thinking, because you were upset about last night, I get it, but don’t be! It was crappy, but she wasn’t telling the truth!” The air in the car was tight, and out of the corner of his eye, Kimihiro saw Shizuka turn his head to the window, avoiding showing his face. 

“What about you wanting to switch places with the Shopkeeper?” he asked, his voice low. “Was that what you talked to him about last night, after you sent me away?” 

Kimihiro nearly slammed on the breaks, but kept driving out of sheer will power. Dammit, they really should have waited until they got home for this, since it was apparently going to be an argument. 

“No. And like I said last night, it wouldn’t work! It would solve nothing, and the Shopkeeper would never do it anyway.” 

Shizuka’s fist was clenched on his knee, his face still facing the outside. 

“So you did consider it.” 

Kimihiro opened his mouth, unsure how to explain that yes, he _had_ but the implications had been as much of a deterrent as the uselessness of such an action. What good would it do either of them to switch worlds, to effectively switch _Doumekis_? It would only hurt everyone involved. 

“Not- no, I didn’t, of course I didn’t!” Kimihiro sputtered, and Shizuka huffed. Hurt rushed in, and Kimihiro bit out the next words. “Oh, we’re back to not believing me, then.” 

Shizuka honestly growled. “That’s not what I mean.” 

“I wasn’t going to do it. I wouldn’t even ask. It wouldn’t work, and no one would be happy.” Kimihiro kept his voice flat, and sharp, as he pulled around the back of their home. He unbuckled as soon as he stopped the car, and opened the door, only for Shizuka to grab his hand. 

“Let go,” Kimihiro said, and pulled away. Shizuka said nothing, not that he was ever good at words in moments like this. Kimihiro opened the door and then stood, his hand on the handle. The woman’s words were flooding his mind, that Shizuka and his relationship was doomed to failure, that it was only human nature for things to fall apart. He took a breath. He wouldn’t let that happen. 

“I wasn’t going to leave you, Shizuka. I never would have done that to you.” 

Before Shizuka could respond, Kimihiro slammed the car door and went into the house.


	18. I Miss The Person I Knew Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interlude 2: Doumeki asks some questions about their double's tasks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today, sorry! I will be posting the next part very soon to make up for it. Thank you everyone who has been commenting and kudos-ing, you make my life!

Interlude Two

It took Doumeki until he was bringing in the groceries to the shop the next day to formulate the question. He knew, roughly, what Watanuki had asked their counterparts to do, in that other world. There was a price they had been tasked to pick up, and the blood to be drawn, but the Guardian not fulfilled their end, and they’d been in more danger than Watanuki expected. Still, the blood was handed over to Watanuki, and the task was fulfilled. 

But he’d seen them when they came back, seen the shaken look on Kimihiro’s face, and the dark, protective anger on his double’s. It wasn’t an expression he’d seen in the mirror, though he was sure he’d felt it. Seeing it disturbed him.

He wanted to ask for more details, to understand better what they’d heard. Perhaps the curiosity was inappropriate, but everything to do with those other two had been consuming his thoughts since it’d begun. Doumeki needed to know. 

The morning sun was streaming into the kitchen as he brought the plastic (again, he’d probably get scolded) bags in and set them on the counter. Watanuki was in front of the stove, in a modest robe with the sleeves rolled up, and an apron, cooking something that smelled delicious. 

“Did you bring natto like I asked? I’ve been thinking about a recipe for a side dish…” Watanuki asked, absently as he pulled down a bottle of cooking sake, and dashed it into the sauce he was simmering. Thick vegetables were already floating in the hot liquid, and a slab of thinly sliced beef was waiting on the counter. 

Doumeki had seen that on the list and vetoed it. “I don’t like natto,” he said. Watanuki turned around, hands immediately on his hips. 

“Well, I do! My recipes are not based on your likes and dislikes, Doumeki!” 

Doumeki shrugged, and Watanuki threw his hands in the air, and turned back to his dish. 

“Well, it will be on tomorrow's grocery list, and you had _better bring it,_ so help me. Are you staying for lunch?”

Doumeki had the day off of work, since it was a Sunday, and so nodded. Watanuki continued grumbling, and cooking. Doumeki put away a few items, and then opened a mandarin orange from the bag he’d gotten, popping a section into his mouth. 

“What did the Guardian say to them out there?” he asked, around the fruit. Watanuki glanced over his shoulder, and frowned. 

“You’ve shown an unusual amount of interest in their tasks.” 

Doumeki refused to even shrug, as it was obvious why he was concerned. Watanuki sighed, and turned around, rubbing his hands on a cloth. 

“Kimihiro heard what he needed to hear,” he said. Then he paused. “Or rather, what he needed to pay this price.” 

Doumeki understood that. A price wasn’t supposed to be comfortable. But Shizuka’s anger still stayed with him. “They were angry,” Doumeki stated. “Was that part of the price as well?” 

Watanuki smiled a little “Kimihiro figured it out himself last night. His emotions when he gives up the items I asked for are important. That’s why we couldn’t do this all in one night. He did need to be angry, and the Guardian is one being whom I knew could incite real anger. I hadn’t anticipated that she’d attempt to hurt them, but they did well enough. None of that should have been aimed at Shizuka, but I suppose it did affect him, indirectly.” 

Doumeki knew those two were close, closer than his Watanuki and he. He tried not to react as his chest grew tight with what was probably jealousy. 

“That’s Shizuka’s price, then,” Doumeki said, somehow knowing it was true. To stand aside and not be able to protect Kimihiro from the price he was paying. Yes, he understood all too well. 

Watanuki nodded his head. “It is.”


	19. Now We're Faced With Two Wrongs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third task begins in a dark world, where a child needs their help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two in one day! Thank you everyone! <3

The rest of the day was tense. Shizuka had showered and calmed, and apologized, but he knew that they both were still tiptoeing a little, trying to not upset the other. They each weren’t truly mad, but more conversation needed to be had. Kimihiro cleaned and shopped and did various busy things, while Shizuka stayed in his office, trying to work, or read. It didn’t work well. Shizuka was tired, and not looking forward to what the night would bring, but the sun set at the same time as it did the day before. 

They opened their eyes in the dream, to find that they wherever they were standing, it wasn’t the shop at all. There was no sign of the Shopkeeper, or the other Doumeki. No sign of anything at all, really. The world was black, with barely enough light to see each other. The air smelled stale. He couldn’t tell if they were inside or outside, or if this was just a strange otherworld they’d ended up in instead of the shop. 

Kimihiro was looking around. 

“Where the hell did we end up?” he asked, and his voice echoed. He lowered the volume to a whisper. “This can’t be the shop.” 

“I don’t know,” Shizuka said, and winced as his voice too felt too loud. The noise cut through the air unpleasantly, somehow making it feel like they were both in a void, and in an impossibly small space. He reached his arm out, if only to be sure that they weren’t in a tiny box. His fingers touched nothing. “It feels wrong.” 

“Yeah,” Kimihiro agreed, looking around. “I don’t… it’s not spirits though.” 

Shizuka hadn’t truly been able to feel the spirits last time, but he took Kimihiro’s word for it. “What should we do?” 

Kimihiro pondered, frowning. “Well… if you’re here, that Doumeki has to be around somewhere, right? Maybe… we should look for Doumeki, and then he can take us back to the shop to do that last task.” 

Shizuka thought the plan sounded as good as any, but then Kimihiro started walking forward, and quickly started to fade into the dimness. With a flash of alarm, Shizuka caught up and took his wrist. 

“We shouldn’t get separated,” he said, almost feeling like he was making an excuse. He hated it when they fought. Kimihiro nodded in agreement, however, and slipped his fingers into his. They began to walk forward. 

Kimihiro spoke just when the silence grew too heavy. “This world just feels so wrong. Not like the last one,” he said, whispering. “It feels like… nothing is getting closer. It’s like an actual dream. You’re really here right? Talk to me, you’re too quiet.” 

“I’m here.” Shizuka squeezed Kimihiro’s hand; one solid thing in this strange world. Their footsteps didn’t even make noise, making Shizuka feel like he needed to watch his feet to even be sure they were moving. “I wouldn’t be if you were just regular dreaming, right?” 

“Few things seem out of the realm of possibility by now, don’t you think?” he asked, then sighed. “It’s not a regular dream, I can tell. There’s this difference… I can really feel things…” he rubbed his thumb across Shizuka’s knuckles to demonstrate. “But there’s no one here… Maybe I messed up somehow. I don’t know. Maybe we’re in the wrong place.” 

Shizuka returned the quick brush with his own thumb, feeling like the hurt feelings from earlier were fading. 

“Well, there must be a reason for it. Maybe this _is_ the third task.” 

Kimihiro gestured around with their joined hands. “There’s nothing here that’s going to make me cry.” 

Shizuka was about to respond, but then he paused, hearing the unmistakable sound of a child crying. It seemed to be coming from both near and far away, but it was in a discernable direction. Shizuka looked to the right, trying to see through the dimness. 

“Do you hear that?” 

Kimihiro nodded, and pulled Shizuka in the direction of the crying. The noise grew louder, until a small form appeared. It was a little boy, with wispy black hair, and pale skin, sitting and curled in on himself. He was facing the other direction, rocking himself back and forth as he sobbed. Kimihiro breathed in sharply, and stepped forward, letting go of Shizuka’s hand to reach out for the child. He crouched, and touched his shoulder gently.

“Kimihiro?” he asked. The child started at Kimihiro’s question, turning around, and Shizuka’s eyes widened. The child was thin, and tiny, but now he could see the resemblance to his Kimihiro, and Watanuki. He didn’t wear glasses yet, and his blue eyes were rimmed in red, but his face was the same, down to the shape of his nose. A nose which he sniffed pitifully. 

“Who are you?” he asked, in Japanese. Kimihiro switched over to match. 

“My name is Kimihiro, too. And this is Shizuka,” he said, gently. Little Kimihiro looked way up at him and his eyes widened. Shizuka crouched too, attempting to become less scary. 

“Kimihiro-san. Shizuka-san,” the boy said, rubbing at his eyes, now that Shizuka wasn’t as imposing. 

“Hi,” Shizuka greeted softly, his heart breaking at the little one’s still trembling lips, and the way his skinny knees were pulled up in front of him. 

“What’s wrong?” Kimihiro- the big one - whispered, and the little one sniffled again. 

“I don’t know… I don’t know where I am… Do you know what this place is?” he said, in a wobbly voice. He moved a little closer to them, and Kimihiro reached out and put a hand on the child’s head. 

“I don’t. We’re a little lost too,” he said, and the boy whimpered. Kimihiro brushed at the little wet cheeks with such tenderness that Shizuka took his free hand again and squeezed. “But, I bet we could find out together?” 

The question reassured little Kimihiro, and he nodded, looking like he was trying to be brave. Kimihiro looked like he couldn’t resist pulling the little one into a hug, and the boy cried a little more, before settling again. 

“Do you want to hold my hand?” Kimihiro asked his little self, and the boy nodded. They all stood, now a chain of three with the adult Kimihiro in the middle. Shizuka looked around, but he knew that they still didn’t know where they were supposed to go. Kimihiro had the same thought. 

“Kimihiro-chan, do you know where you came from?” he asked, and the little Kimihiro puffed up his cheeks in concentration, probably trying to remember what was going on before. After a moment of thought, he looked up at the two adults. 

“I think… I was running away from … something. Trying to get home, and then I was just here.” 

Kimihiro’s brow furrowed. “Running from spirits?” he asked, and the little Kimihiro’s face brightened. 

“You see them too?” he asked, hope in his eyes, and Kimihiro nodded, crouching a little. 

“I do.” 

“They chase me,” the boy said, sniffling again. Kimihiro brushed his hair back.

“I know. They chase me too. That’s why we’re both fast runners, right?” Kimihiro said, smiling down at his younger self. It wasn’t entirely true. Kimihiro had spent most of his life in a world free of spirits and chasing, but the child didn’t notice the half truth, taking comfort in not being alone. He nodded his little head, and leaned against Kimihiro’s hip, holding his hand with both hands.

Shizuka leaned around Kimihiro, to speak to the child. 

“Do you want to know a secret?” he asked, and the little one nodded. Shizuka smiled a little. “The spirits run away from me. So you won’t be chased as long as I’m here.” 

The little one’s eyes grew wide with wonder, “Really?” he breathed, and Shizuka’s heart ached to hold this little one forever, to take him home with them, and keep him safe. If he was this world’s Watanuki, then he was going to have such a hard life. 

“That’s right,” Shizuka said. 

Kimihiro watched them both with an unreadable expression, but something in his eyes hurt. He spoke, in English so the boy wouldn’t understand. 

“Maybe we _are_ in the wrong place. Or the wrong time.” 

Shizuka didn’t know the answer to that. “So what do we do now?” 

“I really don’t know,” Kimihiro said, but then the little child pulled on his hand hard, leading them in a different direction to the one they’d been meandering. “What are you doing?” 

“It’s this way, I think!” he cried, and Shizuka muttered. 

“What is?” 

“Kimihiro-chan, wait, wait.” Kimihiro pulled them all to a stop, kneeling down to look at the little one. He was antsy, dancing from foot to foot, and glancing the way he’d been dragging them. 

“Why do you say that we should go this way?” Kimihiro asked, having switched back to Japanese.

“It’s the way to go!” The child was getting frustrated at having stopped, and was tugging on Kimihiro’s hand. “It’s better. Safer! Can’t you feel it?” 

Kimihiro was quiet a moment, looking the direction little Kimihiro wanted to go. 

“It does feel safer…” he said, vaguely after a moment. “Alright, let’s go.” 

Shizuka watched him, not feeling what either of them were feeling, but trusting his Kimihiro, and even the little one. They were moving faster now, towards something only they could feel. Shizuka tried to keep up. 

The three of them moved faster, and then they were running. The boy gave a cry of happiness and surprise, when suddenly a shape appeared out of the darkness around them. A door! He tugged them all even faster, so much so that it was hard to keep up and hold on to each other. The darkness seemed to be clawing at him.

“That’s it!” he shouted, and adult Kimihiro ran wildly with the child, and Shizuka tried to hold on, but his hand slipped. 

The instant it did, the world changed. Light blinded him, and the two Kimihiro’s were running an impossible distance away. The world was bright now, and strange. Flat and featureless, like a set that hadn’t been painted or set up yet, waiting to be defined. 

Shizuka stared at the hundreds of feet between him and the two Kimihiros, and then opened his mouth to call for them to wait. Somehow, he’d gotten behind, but then a hand grabbed his elbow. 

Starting, Shizuka turned to see Doumeki, looking grim behind him. 

“Doumeki-? What is this?” he asked, frowning. 

“The third task,” he said. His eyes were flat, hiding some emotions, but Shizuka didn’t know how to read it. 

“I have to get back to them-” But Doumeki was shaking his head. 

“He has to go one alone for now,” he replied, and lifted his eyes to watch. Shizuka frowned at him, but stopped trying to pull away, his eyes searching out his Kimihiro. 

*~*~*

A wild joy filled Kimihiro the moment they saw the door. He began to run full out The child was sprinting in front of him, laughing in excitement. 

Then, everything changed. His hand was empty, and everything felt cold, and heavy. Illness crept into his stomach at a horrid smell. Spirits. 

“Kimihiro-kun!” Kimihiro called after the child, and he saw when the little one noticed the feeling. He froze, and turned back to him with wide eyes. “Keep running! Shizuka will keep them away!” 

“But he’s gone!” the boy yelled, turning and fleeing like a rabbit. Kimihiro looked back, and sure enough, Shizuka wasn’t there anymore, just darkness. 

Kimihiro’s heart pounded. Shizuka had disappeared, but he couldn’t be far back, right? If he turned now and looked for him, that little boy could be taken by whatever spirits were here. Perhaps, if he helped this younger self, he would actually help the adult Watanuki? He stumbled in his indecision, and then the child yelled. 

“Kimihiro-san!” he shrieked in terror, and Kimihiro saw that there was a towering monster, a spirit, bearing down on him. They’d found them, and there was no Shizuka to drive them away. Kimihiro dove forward, running towards him at full speed. The spirits couldn’t touch Shizuka, he’d be safe. He had to get the child through the door, to safety. Then he could go back for Shizuka. It was his only option. 

He grabbed little Kimihiro’s hand, and dragged him forward, dodging around the spirit. The child stumbled, and he scooped him up, running with him in his arms. They had to get away, they had to reach the door!

It was ahead of them, standing tall, visible in the darkness. It was ajar, and light streamed through the edges. The boy was crying again, shaking against his shoulder, but Kimihiro wasn’t Shizuka, he couldn’t banish these spirits, he could only run. 

So run he did. 

Then, finally, they reached the door. It opened with the barest push, and they ran through it, and Kimihiro slammed the door behind him. For a moment, there was only the sound of their breathing, and then the child squirmed. Kimihiro let him down, still trying to catch his breath. 

It felt safe again. It felt like the real world, and Kimihiro could see a small room in front of him, with traditional decor and sparse belongs. The boy shook, and sat down hard. 

“My apartment,” he said, shivering. “I’m home. We’re safe, I have, I have wards up.” He wiped the tears from his face. 

Kimihiro looked behind him, his hand still on the door knob. It looked like a normal front door. A sudden terror seized him, and he tore open the door. Blackness yawned before him, and he sighed in relief, even as the miasma of spirits leaked out. The boy twitched backwards in fear. 

“No, don’t go back! You can stay here, it’s safe here!” he cried, tugging on Kimihiro’s pajama pants. 

“I have to find Shizuka,” Kimihiro said, and the boy shook his head. 

“Someone else can find him, the spirit might get you,” little Kimihiro said. “Please!” 

Kimihiro looked down at him, and smiled sadly. “I’m sorry. He’s very important to me, so I have to find him. Someday, you might find your own Shizuka, and then you’ll understand, I hope.” 

The child sniffed, and so Kimihiro put his hand on his head. “Stay safe, Kimihiro-kun. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” 

The boy nodded, and Kimihiro straightened up. 

“It was nice to meet you, Kimihiro-kun,” he said, and Kimihiro smiled up at him. 

“You too, Kimihiro-san. Thank you for saving me.” 

Kimihiro smiled and stepped through the door.


	20. What's Gonna Be Left of the World?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: Kimihiro and Shizuka woke up in a strange world of darkness, where they found a small child who called himself Kimihiro as well. Spirits surrounded them, and Kimihiro was able to take the child to safety, but he lost hold of Shizuka's hand. Now, Kimihiro can't find Shizuka in the thick darkness, until he sees him fighting monsters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, I am so Sorry for the delay! Life got away from me, and so did other fandoms, and the Kurofai olympics, and tons of other things... I am posting the rest of this today and tomorrow, as it is complete!

Kimihiro shut the door behind him, and took a breath. The air was putrid with spirits, and off in the distant darkness, he could see shapes writhing. His ears could pick up hisses and clicks, like insects or snakes, and Kimihiro felt a shiver skittered up his spine. He shuddered hard, and let go of the door knob, quickly looking behind himself. The door stayed in place. 

Kimihiro took a step away, towards the awful mass, and the door continued to exist. Kimihiro let out the barest breath. He had to find Shizuka, and bring him back here. It was the wrong time, but at least the world existed out there, and it wasn’t this horrid place. Maybe Yuuko-san would be there, and would know what the hell was going on. 

He just had to find Shizuka. Kimihiro took a step, and tried to keep his hands from shaking. 

“Shizuka?” he said, quieter than he meant. Kimihiro took a breath, and yelled. “Shizuka!” His voice didn’t echo, didn’t resound in any way. No one answered. 

Kimihiro began jogging forward. There was no way to tell if he was going the right direction, but moving was better than standing still. He continued yelling for Shizuka. There continued to be no answer, but there was a noticeable change in the spirits. They noticed him, but it was like something else was keeping their attention. They were chattering and calling ahead of him, and not chasing him like he expected. 

“Shizuka! Where the hell are you! You idiot,” Kimihiro gasped, refusing to give in to the terror that was growing. What would happen to him out here? What would happen to Kimihiro without him?

“Shizuka!” he cried again, and growled in frustration. “Argh, Kimihiro! This isn’t the task, what the hell are we doing here!? Doumeki? Yuuko-san! Anyone!” 

The dread, the awful stench got bad no matter which direction he ran. The sounds were horrific, crawling up the nerves of his spine like the worst chalkboard scratch. The smell was nauseating, and he had to stop to cough around a gag more than once, almost losing whatever was in his stomach. He felt sick, and terrified, but nothing was attacking. 

Or, rather… nothing was attacking _him_.

A figure resolved itself out of the darkness up ahead. The man was dressed in blue pajama pants, and Shizuka’s college tee shirt, and was lit up with the glow from his arrow, bow drawn. Shizuka was fighting against the roiling mass of spirits. Horrid glowing eyes bore down on him, and he shot and shot in his own defense, barely making a dent in the shapes pressing around him. 

“Shizuka!” Kimihiro yelled, relief at seeing him, and terror at what he was facing warring in his voice, and making it break. Shizuka didn’t hear him. Kimihiro ran forward faster, trying to eat up the distance between them, trying to come and help. 

Then, with an awful jolt, something got through Shizuka’s defense and struck him. Kimihiro screamed and ran faster, but somehow it was taking much longer to reach him then it should have. 

“Shizuka, keep fighting!” Kimihiro screamed, as Shizuka staggered, shaking his head, and putting a hand to his torso. The spirits around him seemed to grow more frenzied as he weakened, and Kimihiro gasped, trying to spread his stride even wider. “Hold on!” 

Shizuka was struck again, falling to one knee. The light from his arrow cast his face in light, and Kimihiro could see his brow drawn in pain, and blood dripping from his open mouth. He released his arrow, and it was swallowed in the assault. He was hit again, and fell to his hands, dropping the bow. 

“No!” Kimihiro shrieked, putting on another burst of speed, but distances didn’t work here, or something, and he never got any closer. He could only watch. “Shizuka!” 

In the last moment, Kimihiro finally broke free of whatever was stopping his progress, and he shot forward. Shizuka saw him, and their eyes held each other for what would never be long enough, and then Shizuka was engulfed by blackness. 

“NOO!!” Kimihiro charged, and the spirits released him and dissipated quickly enough that Kimihiro felt his head spin. He landed hard on his knees, and dove forward to where Shizuka was lying. 

He was limp, clothes stained and lying on his side with his arms twisted beneath him. His eyes were closed, and Kimihiro couldn’t tell if he was breathing. 

“Shizuka? Oh my god, Shizuka!” he bit off a gasp, and fell to his knees, reaching the other man’s form. His hands fluttered over him, unsure, before he touched his face. There was blood smeared under his mouth, and he was so cold. How could he be so cold? He felt for breath in front of his lips, felt for a pulse with slow, uncoordinated movements. N-nothing. There was , there was nothing there…

“Shizuka, no, you have to-” he sobbed, and became aware of the stream of tears blurring his eyes. “You have to hang on, okay?” 

Kimihiro ran his hands along Shizuka’s body, searching for a wound, for something he could do to help this, to fix it, but there was nothing, oh god, what had they done to him?! There was nothing Kimihiro could do. No wounds to treat, not place to go, no one to answer his call for help. Shizuka had been hurt right in front of him, and Kimihiro had left him alone!

“Please,” he pleaded, and his voice wobbled and broke. “Please, I said I wouldn’t leave you, so, so don’t leave me! Please, no, I’m here, I’m here. I left you alone, and I’m sorry, oh dear god, I’m so sorry!” 

The dam broke, and the tears streamed down. Shizuka was still. There was no movement, no breath and no heartbeat from Shizuka. He was- he didn’t even get to say goodbye. Kimihiro sobbed harshly, and put his arms around Shizuka, pulling him up into a sad version of a hug. He was cold, and limp. Still, Kimihiro pressed his face into Shizuka’s neck, trying to catch his scent, his warmth. There was nothing. 

If Kimihiro hadn’t let go of Shizuka’s hand, if he hadn’t decided to help the child instead of come back for him, if he’d just run faster to get to him while he fought for his life - alone - then none of this would have happened!

“No, no, no, nonono…” it was a litany, broken only by his gasping breaths as he cradled Shizuka’s body to his chest. Kimihiro rocked back and forth, barely forming coherent words as he begged for Shizuka to return, for this to not be real. It couldn’t be real. 

“I love you. I love you, you dumbass.” Kimihiro squeezed tighter, lifting his face to yell at the sky. “I didn’t want this. This wasn’t what I wanted, this wasn’t my damn wish! If this is the price, _I take it back!_ ” 

*~*~*

Shizuka saw what was happening before Kimihiro realized it. He stood by Doumeki, and off in the distance, he saw Kimihiro running. And even further, Shizuka saw himself, fighting with all his might against monsters and spirits. He saw Kimihiro run towards the figure that looked like him, screaming for him to hold on. It was then that Shizuka knew what they intended. 

“What the hell is this?” he growled to Doumeki, even though he knew. Doumeki, for the first time since he’d met his other self, looked pained. 

“What has to happen.” 

Shizuka snarled. “You sound like _him_.” Him. Watanuki had orchestrated this. Watanuki, who must have once been like his Kimihiro, but wasn’t any longer. 

Doumeki showed even more hurt, like he didn’t agree with this. But he was here, and that made him complicit in this horrible deception.

Far off, the figure of Shizuka fell, and he heard Kimihiro’s scream echo. Shizuka hissed out a breath. He wasn’t going to stand here any longer. He wasn’t dead, and he wasn’t going to let Kimihiro think he was. But Doumeki’s arms came up around him, dragging him to stop before he’d even started running. Shizuka struggled, but the arms were like a vice around his chest - this Doumeki had obviously continued with archery a lot more than he had, and he was strong. 

“Let go of me,” Shizuka said, struggling, and then faltering as Kimihiro collapsed over his fake body. His shoulders began to shake, and Shizuka felt pain lance through his chest. “Let go!” 

He threw himself forward, and Doumeki staggered, clutching his fingers into Shizuka’s shirt to hold him. Shizuka bucked, and elbowed, trying to get away. In the distance, Kimihiro bowed over the body that wasn’t his, the picture of agony.

“He’s crying now, are you happy? We’ve got your damn tears! This is enough, it’s enough!” 

Doumeki continued to hold him back, while Kimihiro continued to think that he was dead. Shizuka felt Doumeki’s chest heave behind his back. 

“This was the only way-”

Shizuka stilled for a moment. Then, Doumeki released his grip, and Shizuka stumbled forward. 

“Go,” he said, looking away. Shizuka didn’t need telling twice. He took off at a run, and for once the distance seemed to act normally. He reached him in only a few moments. 

“Kimihiro,” he gasped, skidding to his knees. Kimihiro didn’t respond, sobbing into the body’s neck. Shizuka studiously avoided looking too closely at it, but began pulling at Kimihiro’s shoulders, trying to pull him away. He managed to turn him, to get his face between Shizuka’s palms, slick with tears, but it was harder to get him to look at him. “Kimihiro, it’s me. I’m here, I’m not dead, that’s not me.” 

He continued speaking, trying to reassure, trying to bring Kimihiro closer. Kimihiro’s eyes flickered down again at the body, and he shook him gently. “No, look at me, I’m here, Kimihiro.”

Kimihiro finally seemed to here him, and his red stained eyes opened wide. His shaky breathing seemed to stop, before he choked out what might have been a sob, or even a laugh. His lips trembled with the beginning of his name twice before he could speak. 

“Sh-Shizuka…” he whispered, shattered sounding. Then, he lunged forward, throwing his arms around him. His body shook with sobs again, and Shizuka held him tight as he dared. He tried to comfort him; rubbing his back, stroking his hair and pressing kisses to his neck and cheek, and all the while murmuring that he was here, and fine, and it would all be okay. 

The body below them vanished, and Shizuka thought that did more than anything else to prove he was alive and real. 

After a long while, during which Kimihiro’s tears soaked his shoulder, and his warmth eased much of his anger and fear, Shizuka felt a cold hand on his opposite shoulder. He looked up to see Doumeki standing above them. He again looked pained, and apologetic, as he held out a small glass vial. 

Shizuka clenched his jaw slightly, before sighing and taking it. He pulled back slightly from Kimihiro, until he could see his face. The tears were still flowing out, and so Shizuka brushed back his bangs, and murmured. 

“Hold still, okay?” he said. Kimihiro nodded, looking more aware, but still gripping his shirt like a lifeline. 

Shizuka lifted the vial, and put the edge against Kimihiro’s wet cheek. The drops collected quickly, filling it up half full with salty tears of grief. Shizuka pulled it away then, and handed it up to Doumeki without looking. Doumeki took it, and Shizuka pulled Kimihiro close again, feeling his shuddery breath of relief. 

“I’ll give you a moment,” Doumeki said, before stepping away. Shizuka rubbed Kimihiro’s back again. 

“You okay?” he whispered. Kimihiro sighed, and wiped at his eyes, still enclosed in the circle of Shizuka’s arms. 

“You’re alive,” he said quietly. “You’re alive, so I’ll be okay.” 

Shizuka felt his own emotions come forward, throat tight around the words. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was watching, but I couldn’t get to you. I couldn’t stop you from seeing that.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Kimihiro said, voice shattered. “I made the wish. The tears had to be sadness, and they knew- they knew I’d-” 

“They took advantage.” Shizuka’s voice was angry, but Kimihiro put a hand on his cheek. 

“It’s okay, you’re here,” he murmured, and then pulled him in for a kiss. Long, and deep and salty from tears, but it said more than either of them could express in words. Shizuka kissed back, pulling Kimihiro’s body flush with his. This was unfair, and awful, and he was angry, but Kimihiro was safe at the moment, and he knew that Shizuka was safe. For now, that had to be enough.


	21. Now You Carry It With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrive back at the shop, but there are some things that need to be wrapped up, before they can go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the penultimate chapter! Thank you to everyone who commented, and who patiently waited during the long hiatuses this story had. You're all wonderful!
> 
> This is likely stay as the end of the restaurant au series as well, aside from little things if I get the urge. I'm so thankful to everyone who was along for the ride in that. Also, a huge shout out to my old roommate, co-writer, and dear friend, who's musings made the restaurant au even a thing. I love you Rémy!!

Kimihiro drank in the feeling of Shizuka’s lips, of his breath against his mouth, and hands on his shoulders. He could feel his heartbeat where they were pressed together. It was more than relief, and Kimihiro was reeling a little with how much he needed Shizuka to stay right here. 

Then, Kimihiro heard footsteps, and the ambient sound of the world returning around them. Shizuka pulled away, and Kimihiro reluctantly opened his eyes in time to see the darkness of this strange dream world dissipate into the sitting room of the shop. He and Shizuka were kneeling right in the middle. They must have been here the whole time… 

“Blood, sweat, and now tears,” came a voice from behind, and they turned to see Watanuki, the Shopkeeper’s impassive expression on his face, as he inspected the small glass vial that contained his tears of grief. Kimihiro thought he could detect regret in his eyes. Doumeki was there too, standing off to the side of them. His eyes were on the ground. 

“What the hell was that?” growled a low voice, and Kimihiro turned to see Shizuka, glaring threateningly. He stood, almost looking like he was going to punch Watanuki. Kimihiro stood up too, a little wobbly, and grabbed Shizuka’s hand, both to hold him back and steady himself. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, and Shizuka ‘tched violently. 

“It’s not. That was cruel.”

Watanuki watched them with piercing eyes, and Kimihiro knew that he hadn’t done nearly a good enough job at keeping his and Shizuka’s relationship from them. Doumeki knew it too, if his stillness was anything to go by. 

“It was the price you agreed to,” Watanuki said, and Kimihiro nodded. 

“I know.” And he did. He’d agreed to it, and that was how it had to be. It was in no way pleasant, and he never ever wanted to see that again, but with his hand in Shizuka’s, he knew they’d be alright. He squeezed Shizuka’s hand, and massaged his thumb along his knuckles, trying to rub out the tension he could feel all the way to Shizuka’s fingertips. Shizuka subsided, slumping and putting his other hand around Kimihiro’s. He was likely holding himself back from hugging him again. 

Watanuki was still watching them closely, and Kimihiro could tell he was pained by either what he’d had to do to extract that price, or by their displays of closeness. Kimihiro couldn’t step away from Shizuka right now if he tried, but he felt bad for hurting the two of them, even unintentionally. 

Watanuki let out a breath that was only barely a sigh, and then lifted his hand. 

“I think some refreshment is in order.” He clapped his hands once, and Mokona, the little black spirit blob bounced into the room, throwing a twirl in the landing. Watanuki gave it a look, before speaking. “Mokona, show these two to the wash room to clean up, and given them some spare robes. I’ll bring food and drink. Doumeki, will you come with me.” 

Watanuki was aware of his headache, and how his face felt puffy and damp still. Both their shirts were stained with sweat, not to mention the still damp places where he’d cried on him. Cleaning up would do them some good, but to be honest, Kimihiro would rather do that at home, than here in the dream. He was ready to be done. By the tightness of Shizuka’s fingers around his, he concurred, but regardless they followed Mokona to the washroom. 

As soon as they were left alone in the large white-tiled room, Kimihiro crushed himself against Shizuka’s chest, just needing to keep him close, to feel he was still alive. 

“I’m sorry,” Shizuka whispered, incidentally the same words in Kimihiro’s head. He humphed, and then his breath hitched, and he had to blink fast. God, he’d done all the crying he wanted to today for the rest of his life. 

“I’m so glad-” and he couldn’t finish. Shizuka stroked his hair, and held him tightly, reassuring and protecting him. Finally, letting out a breath, Kimihiro pulled away, and rubbed his face. 

“Are you okay?” he asked Shizuka, knowing he had been angry. Shizuka let out a heavy breath. 

“I wish it didn’t have to be like this…” 

Kimihiro ducked his head. “Be careful how you use that word,” he muttered. Shizuka realized and glanced around, but it didn’t seem like something was going to burst out of the tiled wall and force him to pay a price for a complaint, so he relaxed. Kimihiro stepped further than an arms length away for the first time in a while, stepping to the sink to wash his face. 

Shizuka folded his arms. “He tricked you.” There was a long pause, as Kimihiro stuck his face in the sink. He wasn’t angry. He felt raw, and pained, but also dizzy with relief. But, he wasn’t angry. He understood Watanuki too well for that. But still...

“I never want to see that again...” Kimihiro whispered, as water dripped off his nose. Kimihiro thought back to holding Shizuka’s body, to rocking back and forth with that limp weight in his arms, and knowing that he’d give anything to take it back. If the price for helping Watanuki was actually losing Shizuka, then he’d never pay it. Kimihiro kept his voice hushed, twisting his fingers in the towel he’d grabbed. “I would have taken it all back if it meant really losing you.” 

Shizuka reached out, and tangled his fingers in Kimihiro’s hair, cradling his head in the way that made Kimihiro melt every time. His thumb brushed Kimihiro’s cheekbone, and their eyes met. He didn’t say anything, but pulled him in for a hug. Kimihiro wanted nothing more than to stay there, in the circle of Shizuka’s arms, listening to his breathing and heart beating forever. Shizuka stroked his hair. 

“You alright, Kimihiro?” he asked after a while. Kimihiro nodded against Shizuka’s chest, and took in a breath to answer, before letting it out without a word. Was he alright? Yes. The things taken from his body hadn’t hurt him much physically, though there had been moments where he’d thought… 

“I will be,” he said, listening to Shizuka’s steady heart beat. “It’s almost over.” 

Shizuka ran his knuckle against Kimihiro’s cheek. 

“I hate that you had to see that.” 

Kimihiro placed his hand around Shizuka’s, pressing both their clasped hands against his cheek, before kissing Shizuka’s fingers. 

“It wasn’t real,” he said, quietly. Thank god. 

There was a tap at the door, and they pulled back from their embrace in time to see Mokona slide open the door. He was more solemn than usual. 

“The Master is waiting for you now,” he said, bouncing back and leading the way down the hall. Kimihiro reached over and took Shizuka’s hand for a few steps, squeezing hard, but he dropped it before they reached the sitting room. They may know, but he didn’t have to flaunt their relationship. He still stood a little too close, needing Shizuka’s warmth. 

The room was the same as it had been since they started the tasks. Watanuki reclined on the couch across from two seats, silks pooled around him, in a different, high necked tunic. He smiled in greeting, and gestured to a small spread of both alcohol and tea on the low table. Doumeki was by the far door again, leaning against the frame. He looked troubled. 

Kimihiro and Shizuka sat in their normal seats, and then to nearly everyone’s surprise, Shizuka spoke first.

“So, what are you going to do now?” he asked Watanuki, causing him to blink. Kimihiro got the impression that he wouldn’t have expected his Doumeki to ask a question like that without pondering, but Kimihiro knew Shizuka was ansty with the need for answers, and the need to get this done with. Watanuki cleared his throat delicately, and answered Shizuka’s question. 

“I’ve taken Kimihiro’s price. So I’ll grant his wish.” 

“And what does that mean?” 

There was a long pause stretched out, and both Doumekis had their eyes fixed on Watanuki. He looked like stone, not meeting either of their eyes. Kimihiro spoke then, explaining what he knew, speaking to Shizuka. 

“He… his existence is tenuous. He shouldn’t exist, and that’s why he’s here, in the shop. I want to give him a life, for him to live normally outside the shop, and have a chance at happiness.” Against his will, his eyes flickered to Doumeki, and then away. “That price is too high. I couldn’t pay it.” 

“What did you pay, then?” Shizuka asked. Kimihiro looked back at him. 

“I gave him some of my existence. Only _some_ ,” Kimihiro repeated, making sure that Shizuka knew it would be fine. “After this, he can leave the shop. Only that, I can’t affect his time, or his own wish. But he can see the world, if he wants to. Isn’t that right?” Kimihiro turned to their audience, to see Watanuki watching him. His face was unreadable, but there was something sharp in his eyes. He nodded at Kimihiro. 

“That’s correct.” Watanuki shifted, pulling himself up and towards a side table. The movement seemed to end that conversation, and start a new one. There was a chest there, that he brought back to the low table between them. He opened the box, and reached in. “Kimihiro, I’ve taken three prices from you: your blood.” He set the small white jar down. 

“Your sweat.” He placed the folded cloth beside it.

“And your tears.” The small vial joined its fellows. 

Watanuki leaned back, putting the chest on the floor and leaving the three items in their place, lined up on the table. 

“You’ve given these willingly, though not, perhaps, without complaint.” 

“You’d know all about that, wouldn't you?” Kimihiro mumbled, but then straightened up, looking at Watanuki. “I do willingly give these items. My question for you is, will you accept it?” 

The Shopkeeper watched him for a long moment. 

“I will accept your wish.” 

“And not just because it’s my wish. Do you want this too?” Kimihiro added. 

“I wish this for myself as well.” 

A great rush of relief made Kimihiro feel limp, after everything tonight. It wouldn’t go to waste, all his efforts. Watanuki was going to try to change. That was all he could ask for. Letting out a breath, Kimihiro smiled at his double. 

“Then, shall I grant your wish?” Kimihiro asked, and Watanuki smiled back in surprise. 

“I think you stole my line,” he said. Watanuki gestured to the items. “Then, are you ready?” 

Kimihiro nodded, unsure what this would entail. Watanuki waved his hand over the three vessels containing Kimihiro’s blood, sweat, and tears - his essence even. A moment later, the vessels began to glow. Light grew, making Kimihiro’s eyes water, and Shizuka have to look away entirely. Kimihiro watched as bright echoes of the objects rose up, and then converged into a glowing ball of energy. Or maybe it was a thread? Something connected from Kimihiro’s chest to the warm light, and Kimihiro understood that it was a part of him. Then Watanuki gestured it forward, and it moved towards Watanuki’s chest, and vanished. 

As this happened, Kimihiro felt the tug on his being. Not his body, but his sense of self, like he was outside his body for a moment. Kimihiro winced at the strange feeling, as it tightened before something snapped, and Kimihiro swayed in a rush of dizziness. He came back to himself to find he had a hand pressed to his chest, and Shizuka was steadying him in his chair. Kimihiro leaned on Shizuka and slowly shook his head. 

“That was weird…” he slurred, as his ... _soul?_ settled. He didn’t feel different, necessarily. Just a little jostled. 

Watanuki sat back, looking just as shaken. Kimihiro noticed there was more color in his face, somehow something more solid in his bearing. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, and Kimihiro felt his throat get tight. He was fading, though. He could tell he was waking up. 

“Use it well, okay,” Kimihiro said, thinner than before. He looked over his counterpart in this world, and hoped he could be happy. “Good bye,” he said, before turning to Shizuka. He looked worried, so Kimihiro smiled at him. “See you at home,” 

And with that, he woke in his bed. Shizuka was still asleep beside him. Kimihiro breathed in, and let it out. It was over. 

 

*~*~*

Shizuka had never seen the moments that Kimihiro vanished, waking before him, but it was jarring every time to look over and have him be gone. However, the ring was humming on his finger, and he knew there was still one more thing to be done. He’d see Kimihiro soon. 

Watanuki turned his gaze towards Shizuka, looking realer somehow, Closer to his Kimihiro, with emotion in his eyes. 

“Now, what of you?” he said. “Your wish was never formally wished or granted. Are you satisfied?” 

Shizuka ran his thumb along the wooden ring on his finger. He knew it belonged to Doumeki - he could feel the power within it, and the emotion that went into crafting it. He needed to return it. After that, his task was done. He’d helped Kimihiro the best he knew, and they’d both come through this. The only thing breaking his heart still was the sadness for these two here in this world, but that wasn’t within his power to change, nor was the blame for it on his shoulders. 

“I need to return this to Doumeki,” he said, and Watanuki gestured to the other man. Doumeki came forward, meeting Shizuka’s eyes as Shizuka stood and held out the ring. He didn’t smile, but he gave him a soft look of gratitude. 

“Thank you for lending me this. I know what it means to you.” 

Doumeki nodded, and took the ring that Shizuka offered. Shizuka put his han around Doumeki’s for a moment. 

“I wish you happiness,” he whispered. Doumeki closed his eyes. 

“Take care of your Kimihiro,” he said, and Shizuka nodded. He would, from the bottom of his heart. 

“You too,” he returned, and stepped back. Watanuki stood up. 

“Now, I never want to see two Doumekis in the same place again,” Watanuki grumbled, and the room felt lighter. “So, go on home. Your Kimihiro is waiting.” 

He put his hand on Shizuka’s chest, and Shizuka woke in bed, with Kimihiro next to him and his finger bare. It was dark, early in the morning, and Kimihiro’s eyes were glinting slits in the dim light. He was awake. Barely. 

“Hey,” Shizuka murmured, rolling over, and brushing Kimihiro’s bangs from his face. 

“Morning,” he said sleepily. “Probably…” 

“Not yet,” Shizuka said, closing his eyes and moving closer to Kimihiro. He put his arm around him, and they settled down closer. “It’s done, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” Kimihiro said, snuggling into Shizuka’s hold. “‘s done… go to sleep.” He kissed Shizuka’s shoulder, which was just the part that was the closest. 

“Okay,” Shizuka said, feeling sleep tug at him. “Love you…” 

“Love you too,” Kimihiro mumbled, but Shizuka could tell he meant it.


	22. Here We Are Again My Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After everything, Watanuki and Doumeki ponder what's changed for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, you guys. The ending is here! I have some extra scenes and notes that I might post one of these days, including an epilogue for Kimihiro and Shizuka, but for now, this is the final chapter. Thank you so much for the feedback, support, and everything you readers are! Keep being awesome, Rémy and I really appreciate it!

Doumeki watched as Shizuka returned to his world. The weight of the others’ wishes was heavy in the air. Shizuka wanted Doumeki to be happy. Kimihiro wanted Watanuki to be free… would those wishes be granted? He didn’t know how things would go from here. 

Doumeki let out a breath, recalling last night. The pain, and bitter jealousy he’d tamped down at seeing the two of them together. He hadn’t looked away quickly enough to miss the way they’d gazed at each other, in the wake of the third task, nor to see the moment Kimihiro kissed Shizuka with all the gratitude of seeing him alive. That glimpse would stay with him forever. 

He’d drunk last night, far too much, trying to wash away the longing in his throat, or the thoughts of what never would be. 

Watanuki turned to him, simply looking at him for a long moment, and Doumeki allowed himself to wonder what Watanuki would do. Would he leave the shop? Would he change, or would things stay the same? 

“I’d like to go outside,” Watanuki then said to Doumeki. “Just for a moment.” 

Doumeki felt a rushing through him, like waves. He nodded, and followed Watanuki from the room. 

Outside, it was cooler. There was a light breeze, as the summer air let go of its heat, and it was light with that temporary feeling of twilight. Watanuki breathed in as they exited the shop, and walked down the path to the gate. He stopped at the fence, at the barrier that Doumeki couldn’t see, and lifted his hand. 

Doumeki knew he’d touched it before, had put his hand outside the property line, and had witnessed it vanish. This time, after pressing flat against the air, Watanuki stuck his fingers over the fence, and… they remained. Watanuki breathed in, before wiggling his fingers. Then, he smiled and stepped through the gate. 

Then he stood on the sidewalk, not two feet away from where he’d been. Watanuki trembled, and Doumeki heard a sniff, before he looked up at the sky. Doumeki came up beside him, passing through the gate as well, to stand on the sidewalk. The city before them had grown up a little since Watanuki had last been outside, and some of the skyline had changed, but the feeling of abruptly coming from a serene garden to the middle of a city was the same as it had been. He wondered if Watanuki had forgotten what it was like. 

Watanuki’s face was slightly wet, eyes bright, and Doumeki supressed an urge to touch his face. 

“Kimihiro’s wish is granted, then,” Doumeki said into the silence, for once breaking it himself instead of waiting for Watanuki. 

Watanuki nodded, and turned to look up at Doumeki. 

“I thought I’d never leave again,” he said quietly. “I’ve seen the world in dreams, but… to feel it is another thing.” 

Doumeki nodded, unsure of how to respond. He knew now that things would change. Watanuki no longer needed a caretaker, an errand boy. He could get his own groceries, and leave to grant wishes or get payments. He was still the Shopkeeper, still magical and other-worldly...but maybe they could be on even ground now? Watanuki was free, and Doumeki wasn’t tied to him by Watanuki’s need, only by one or both of their choices. The feeling of a chain lifting off his neck made Doumeki feel a little heady, and he breathed in and out a few times. 

“Do you want to go somewhere?” Doumeki asked, a little reckless feeling. He wanted to show the world to Watanuki again. 

Watanuki paused, his eyes flickering back to the shop before he seemed to realize the extent of his freedom. He lifted his face, a young excitement in his eyes. 

“I- I can, can’t I? I could go somewhere. Anywhere.” 

Doumeki imagined taking his hand, leading him somewhere beautiful. He didn’t take his hand, and he didn’t actually know much about the city lately anyway, but the feeling remained. 

“Let’s go then,” Doumeki said, nearly smiling. Something was cracking through him, aching and stinging against his locked up heart. He thought it was happiness, but it had been a while. There was no reason to feel like his heart was singing just because another person had stepped outside, but Watanuki’s genuine smile made Doumeki feel like grinning. 

Watanuki smiled, and followed him, and the smile was real. 

They walked along, Doumeki looking over at Watanuki often, like his gaze was a magnet. They didn’t speak much, except for remarks about how that shop was new, or this building had changed ownership. 

“I barely recognize it,” Watanuki said, frowning slightly. Doumeki huffed a bit, and plucked at Watanuki’s sleeve. 

“Let’s go this way,” he said, and Watanuki followed him. There was a place that he knew was the same since Watanuki had been out last. The park they visited so often as teenagers was still there, if slightly updated as per safety regulations. 

“Oh,” Watanuki said, when they crossed the park’s entrance. “It’s all the same.” 

“Mostly,” Doumeki said, stepping into the rubber bit-covered play area. Then they were young it had been sand. “When Kunogi was here with her kids, they played here every day.” 

Doumeki sat on the swings, like he had years previous, and swung himself back and forth a little. They should have been too small for him, a grown man, but somehow they held him with no trouble. No suspicious creaking in the chains, just a healthy squeak. 

Watanuki’s eyes had lit up at the mention of Himawari, and her family. “She lives out of town now, doesn’t she?” he said, taking a seat next to Doumeki on the swings. “I should visit.” 

Doumeki had to push back a knot of emotion, thinking of everyone’s reactions. They’d be so happy for Watanuki. 

“You should,” he said, pushing himself off and swinging higher. Watanuki matched him, and they swung back and forth like children for a while. Doumeki smiled (possibly too fondly) at the sight of Watanuki arcing through the air, silks fluttering behind him. Watanuki was free of being stuck in that shop, and Doumeki could barely process all that it meant. It wouldn’t change Watanuki’s goal of waiting for Yuuko, nor his powers and wish granting responsibilities he’d taken up. But, still, it felt like life was starting up again, after being stagnant for ten years. 

“You can do whatever you want,” Doumeki said, slowing slightly on his own swing. 

Watanuki slowed down, his silks settling and is expression losing some of that giddiness. 

“You don’t have to stay,” Watanuki said, and Doumeki’s joy was suddenly shot through with … fear, and sadness, and acknowledgment. He didn’t. He was free to live his life. Watanuki didn’t need him anymore. But, then Watanuki continued. “That wish of yours… I don’t know if I can grant it.” 

Doumeki let out a breath. If he left Watanuki to his own devices, he now knew that he’d be fine. He could take care of himself, and Doumeki could go elsewhere and heal his cracked heart. If Doumeki stayed, this time it would be out of choice and not necessity. It would be because he wanted to be there. Perhaps it would hurt, to be friends and nothing more… but Doumeki had been hurting, and he’d lived, and now things were going to change. He’d be able to see this out. 

“I know,” Doumeki said. Watanuki’s face was sad, verging on heartsore - and it was more emotion than he’d shown in a long time. Yes, Kimihiro coming had done good for him. Doumeki reached across the gap between their two swings, and wrapped his big hand around Watanuki’s slender forearm, the touch gentle. Watanuki blinked. “You don’t need me…” he trailed off, trying to find words. Watanuki was listening intently. “That means, if I come over, it’s because… you want me to come. Or, I want to visit. That’s enough, I think.” 

Watanuki stared, before he nodded. “I think… that would be good,” he decided. “Besides, the girls and Mokona constantly ask after you. You can’t very well leave them.” Watanuki turned his face away at this last, and Doumeki felt a rush of relief. They could continue on - not as they were, or even as they had been in the past, but something new. They could learn to be friends. 

Doumeki pulled his hand back, smiling while Watanuki was looking the other direction. 

“I couldn’t leave Mokona, or the girls.” 

“I’d never hear the end of it,” Watanuki said, his voice taking on a haughty tone. He stood up, brushing off his robes, as if he hadn’t just been swinging on a children’s toy. Doumeki did the same, his heart feeling lighter than it had in years. 

“When we get back, I want chocolate cake.” 

Watanuki turned to him, his mouth open. “It’s almost ten at night! Your requests are ridiculous.” 

Doumeki caught up to him. “It’s an occasion,” Doumeki said, softer, and Watanuki seemed to remember where he stood. His face brightened, even as he tried to scowl at him. 

“I don’t have any baking chocolate,” he said. “I’ll make it tomorrow, after I go to the store.” 

“Fine,” Doumeki said, again smiling. This was better. This wasn’t granting his wish, but it was fulfilling another one, something more subtle. Watanuki’s shoulders were more at ease, more relaxed. His face was soft, and his smiles had been real. Doumeki didn’t mind whatever happened in the future. Watanuki was free. That was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> This is almost completely done, and will be 24 chapters. I will be posting every few days. I hope you enjoy!


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